Demon Bait and Demon Revenge
by ghost02
Summary: COMPLETE! Set in S4. Pretending to be Angel, Angelus returns to Sunnydale and gets involved with Buffy again.
1. Eternity

TITLE: Demon Bait  
AUTHOR: Kelso  
RATING: PG-13 for language, sexual situations  
SPOILERS: "Eternity" (for "Angel"); and any of "Buffy" through "Who Are You?" is fair game, particularly season 4 episodes.  
FEEDBACK: please! Send to kelso28@excite.com  
SUMMARY: Set in season 4. Pretending to be Angel, Angelus returns to Sunnydale to seek revenge on Buffy and the gang.  
DISTRIBUTION: anywhere  
WEBSITE: http://www.geocities.com/kelso28a/  
DISCLAIMER: "Buffy" and "Angel" characters belong to Joss Whedon.   
NOTES: 1-Set in "Buffy" S4/"Angel" S1 beginning with just before Angelus gets loose in "Eternity." Assume that he retains control even after the effects of the drug wear off. Although this story is set in season 4 of "Buffy," I am ignoring certain events that occurred. So, status is: Buffy and Willow are attending UC Sunnydale, while Xander is not. Oz left town, and the Willow/Tara and Xander/Anya relationships developed as seen on the show. Spike never returned; Faith didn't come out of her coma. Buffy knows Riley is a member of the Initiative, he knows she's the Slayer, but Adam doesn't exist. Buffy and Riley are dating but have not slept together yet.   
2-Riley fans may want to avoid this story. Angelus DOES NOT like Riley (do you really think he would?). Oh, heck, in this story, he doesn't much like *anyone*, except himself.   
3-Thanks to Sky and SpikeFan for beta reading.   
  
  
Demon Bait 1/9 

Angelus was one bored, frustrated demon. Every other demon that had ever inherited a body seemed to have been able to live in it without inside interference. Like, say, from a pesky soul. But not only had *his* body's soul come back to wrest control twice, it was surely the most stodgy, dull soul in all of history. Angelus had gotten to live every normal vampire's dream and go to hell, but he hadn't been able to enjoy the experience because Angel had been in command the entire time. 

Tonight, Angel was conferring with some out-of-work actress who needed his help. Angelus had resigned himself to another night of excruciating boredom and good deeds, until he realized the bimbo had just slipped Angel a mickey: a drug that produced feelings of bliss. Here was his long-awaited chance to escape! 

Angelus blindly pushed forward, eager to emerge. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the surface. Then, with one last push, he broke through, back in command. He violently shook his head. Man, it felt good to be free. He could feel the soul there, somewhere inside of him, but it was trapped just like he had been and exerted no influence. His gaze settled on the face of the idiot who had released him: Rebecca Lowell. She looked enthralled and a little nervous. Well, he would just have to change that expression. He wanted her to look terrified. 

"Thanks, Rebecca," Angelus said, morphing into his true face. "You want to know what I did to the last fool who brought me back? I terrorized her for months. I stalked her and her friends. I killed her teacher. I tried to bring hell on earth. And I was just getting warmed up. You know what I wanna do to *you*?" 

He strolled toward her, and that was when the stupid bitch finally figured out she should be afraid. She whirled and ran to the elevator to frantically jab at the call button. As Angelus slunk closer, the door slid open and Rebecca lunged forward, out of his reach. *Really* out of his reach, as it turned out, since she fell down the elevator shaft, broke her neck, and promptly expired. 

'Oh, well,' Angelus thought. It was what he deserved for playing with his food. And it wasn't like the twit hadn't been asking for it, although he would have preferred to have done the honors himself. Still, it would be a shame to let all that delicious blood go to waste. He lithely leaped down and gathered up the body, positioning his fangs at the jugular to enjoy his first good drink in years. 

Finished, Angelus absently licked a stray smear of blood from his lips and pondered what to do with his newfound freedom. Maim, destroy, and kill, naturally, but where to start? 

It didn't take him long to think of the obvious answer: Sunnydale. After all, he had some serious unfinished business there. He was going to get his revenge on the Slayer and her friends. 

Angelus quickly decided on a general plan of action. He would infiltrate the group, pretend to be their precious Angel, and then, at the moment they least expected it, he would turn on them. He could hardly wait to see the tormented look on Buffy's face. 

Buffy. Angelus mused on her for a moment. He hated her, and he really hated her name. It made her sound like a cocker spaniel. Angelus hated cocker spaniels, too, dating back to the night one bit him on the ankle. He had killed it and drunk it and after all that trouble it hadn't even tasted good. 

Nevertheless, he couldn't help feeling a grudging respect for Buffy's abilities as the Slayer. True, she'd wimped out on several opportunities to finish him off, but she'd fought him to a standstill during Acathla's opening. Then again, he'd hardly been at his best at the time, courtesy of good old Spike whacking him over the head a dozen or so times with a very heavy, very metal andiron. 

He would just have to prove his superiority this time around. Mentally, there was no question he was more than a match for Buffy. Physically, the contest was closer. But ultimately, nine times out of ten in an unfair fight, Angelus was confident he would emerge triumphant. 

He shook himself out of his reverie. He was wasting the best hours of the night, and he had a lot to do. Such as dispose of Rebecca's body...empty refrigerator and dump disgusting animal blood down the drain...pack the tiny fraction of Angel's wardrobe he could stomach wearing...mentally consign the remainder of said wardrobe to Goodwill--or, rather, the fiery pits of hell, since no self-respecting evil demon would ever donate to charity... 

The phone trilled as he moved on to his final task. Angelus allowed the answering machine to pick up and listened to Cordelia's whiny voice as she left a message. "Hey, Angel. Are you sure you know how to work this machine right? I hope so, 'cause it's really, really important for business...anyway, I was just checking. Bye!" 

Angelus paused in the middle of trashing Angel's collection of Barry Manilow records. Cordelia posed a problem. More specifically, Cordelia's visions did. What if she had one that warned of his reemergence, and she tipped off the Slayerettes? The only way to guarantee she wouldn't was to kill her. Angelus liked that idea. Cordelia pissed him off in a major way. Only Angel would hire a hack actress who couldn't act as a secretary who couldn't type, couldn't file, and probably couldn't find her ass with her own hands. 

Unfortunately, killing Cordelia was not a viable option. Wesley couldn't help noticing her absence. Of course, he could kill Wesley, too, but the more bodies he piled up, the greater the risk of his being unmasked. And Angelus didn't want that to happen until he was good and ready. He was a vampire with a plan. 

No, much as the thought revolted him, he had to allow Cordelia and Wesley to live. Just for a little while longer, Angelus promised himself. After he finished his fun in Sunnydale, he'd return and tie up those little loose ends. So vowing, Angelus went off to feed a plausible cover story to his gullible coworkers. 

TBC 

Reviews always appreciated! 


	2. Sunnydale

Demon Bait (2/9)  
Previously: Angelus re-emerged and decided to go to Sunnydale to get revenge on Buffy and her friends.

On his way to Sunnydale, Angelus stopped off and raided a blood bank so he'd have a nice supply to tide him over for a few days. He'd decided it would be best not to hunt until he figured out the lay of the land back "home." Then he set the Plymouth on cruise control and sat back to enjoy the smell of freedom, the wind slicking back his hair. He had to admit, Angel had taste in cars if nothing else, and Angelus was taking full advantage of the convertible. Luckily, he had packed wisely. After this wild ride, Angel's super-stick hair gel was going to come in handy. 

As he tore along at warp speed, Angelus began to practice his fake-Angel dialogue. "I love you, Buffy," he experimented. "Or how about, Buffy, I love you? I never stopped loving you, Buffy." Each line sounded equally gag-inducing to him, which was a good sign they would work on the simpering teen. 

Almost too soon, Angelus breezed into Sunnydale, having made such good time that he was pretty sure Buffy would still be out on patrol. He wondered how much she'd varied her routine now that she was attending college. Although, who ever heard of a Slayer going to college? The concept was simply ridiculous. Besides, Buffy had never been known for her "book smarts," and her grades had suffered even more due to her jam-packed schedule. Quite frankly, Angelus was amazed any school had been desperate enough to accept the Slayer's application. 

Be that as it might, however, he figured goody-goody Buffy was still on the job. It was just a matter of discovering where. Angelus slowly cruised the streets bordering Sunnydale's most popular cemeteries, his senses on high alert. His patience was rewarded after about 10 minutes when he felt Buffy's presence in a nearby graveyard. He stopped the car at the side of the road, hopped out, and cut across the grounds in pursuit of the Slayer. 

His sensitive ears quickly picked up the sounds of a raging battle. Angelus tracked it to the middle of the cemetery, where he spied from behind a baroque crypt as Buffy easily dispatched a pair of vampires, turning both demons into small piles of dust without drawing a deep breath. She hadn't lost a step yet, and Angelus eagerly anticipated the day he would once again take her on. The defeat of probably the most powerful Slayer ever would certainly be a feather in his cap. 

As he thought those deliciously evil thoughts, Buffy whirled and stared in his direction. It seemed like she could sense the presence of her enemy. Maybe she was getting better. Well, it wouldn't do for her to find him hiding. Angelus boldly stepped from behind the crypt and strode toward the startled Slayer. 

"Buffy." He stopped in front of her and pinned on his most soulful expression. 

She cocked her head. "Angel, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?" 

He launched into his carefully prepared speech. "I've heard rumors of a huge new threat due to arrive in the Hellmouth very soon and I figured you could use my help in case it's true." 

Before Buffy could reply, a fair-haired young man walked up and wrapped his arms around her waist, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Hey, Buffy." He glanced at Angelus. 

"Who the hell is this?" Angelus demanded. 

Buffy looked down. "Riley, this is Angel. He's the old friend I told you about. Angel, this is Riley Finn...my boyfriend." 

Riley stiffened, dropping his arms from their grip on Buffy. "He's the vampire, isn't he." 

"Keep in mind, I also told you he's a good vampire," Buffy reminded him. 

Riley nodded. "I'm trying." 

Angelus stared. He'd known Buffy had a new boyfriend, but he'd had no idea it was someone like this buffoon Riley. Even more stunningly, she had told the boy about Angel and his true status. 

Riley smiled tightly and stuck out his hand. "Good to meet you, Angel." 

Angelus forced himself to shake hands. "Likewise." 

There ensued an awkward silence, during which he and Riley bristled at each other. Buffy quickly maneuvered herself between the two and suggested, "Why don't we go back to my house to talk? My mom's away on a business trip so we'll have plenty of privacy." 

"Good idea," Riley agreed. "Buffy, I think you should ride with me." 

She shot an apologetic look at Angelus. "We'll meet you at the house, okay?" 

"Yeah, right," he muttered. With a little wave at him, Buffy allowed Riley to lead her away. Angelus barely noticed. He was too busy struggling to maintain the Soul Boy facade, when what he really wanted to do was chain Riley up, decorate him with about 200 steel-tipped needles, and watch him bleed to death while being delicately tortured. He had to force himself to consider how the soul would act. Probably brim with concern, find out if Riley was a suitable mate for Buffy, and then selflessly bow out of the picture. 'Fuck that,' thought Angelus. He'd already revised his plans. He'd still turn on Buffy and her other friends, but he was going to take care of Finn along the way. 

TBC

Comments? Anyone reading?


	3. Riley Hate

Demon Bait 3/9: Riley Hate 

Previously: Angelus reemerged and decided to seek revenge on Buffy and her friends. When he got to Sunnydale, he met Riley, took an instant dislike to him, and plans to take him down, too. 

Note: Angelus *does not* like Riley and makes it clear. Riley fans might want to avoid this story. 

******* 

Angelus slipped the convertible into an opening in front of Buffy's house. It was the closest he could get; the presumptuous Riley Finn had, not surprisingly, taken up the entire driveway. Angelus then entered the Summers' house only to find that Riley was also hogging the couch, not that Angelus wanted to sit next to him anyway. Instead, he selected an easy chair and angled it so he could better face his rival. 

Buffy was hovering around Finn like a fly. "Riley, do you want anything? Soda or a sandwich?" 

"A Coke would be good." 

"Okay. Angel?" 

"No, thanks. I already drank." 

"I'll just be a minute, then." She disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. 

Angelus decided to capitalize on her absence and get to know his newest enemy a little better. First step was to find Finn's weak points so Angelus started with a deliberate, although veiled, insult. "Buffy told you all about me, huh? Strange how she never even mentioned your name to me." 

Riley's fixed smile wavered. "I really wouldn't expect her to share the news with her ex-boyfriend. Not that I would have minded if she had. We have a very strong relationship and we're both completely secure in our feelings for each other." 

Yes, a definite score there. Finn seemed overly anxious to ensure that Angelus knew he and Buffy were tight. Which meant he actually wasn't so confident. Angelus moved on to a less threatening question, to avoid raising too much suspicion so soon. "So, Riley, what do you do for a living?" 

"I'm a TA. That means teaching assistant," Riley explained patronizingly. "Buffy's in the pysch course I work with. That's how we met." 

With a great effort, Angelus restrained himself from rolling his eyes. "Where are you from? You don't look like a California native." 

Riley hesitated, but apparently couldn't see any harm in the question and answered, "I'm not. I was born in Iowa." 

"Let me guess: You grew up on a farm." 

"Yeah." Riley frowned. "How did you know?" 

"You seem like the type. So, a farm in Iowa. How...rustic." Angelus felt a sneer rising to his lips. He could just imagine Finn frolicking in the sties with the pigs. Buffy must have gone mental after Angel left her, to have taken up with this moron. He studied Riley's broad features and milky eyes. The fellow even looked somewhat like a farm animal. Maybe a cow. 

"Farm life taught me to love the outdoors. Now Buffy and I patrol together a lot. We make a great team." Riley puffed out his chest, and Angelus revised his animal assessment to rooster. 

Before he could ask another question, Buffy came back into the room carrying two cans of soda, one of which she handed to Riley. He immediately made room for her on the couch, and she dropped down beside him. "Have you two been getting to know each other a little better?" 

Riley threw an arm across her shoulders. "You could say that." 

Buffy turned to Angel. "You said a threat to the Hellmouth brought you back? What is it this time?" 

"It's nothing immediate," Angelus answered vaguely. "I mean, from what I heard it will be coming soon, but I didn't show up at the last minute. There's time for Giles to research the situation." Angelus paused. "Speaking of Giles, how is he? And the others?" 

"They're okay. Except Oz broke up with Willow and left town. It's best not to mention his name too much around her," Buffy cautioned. 

Riley cleared his throat and glanced at his watch, then at Angelus. "It's getting pretty late. Since the world isn't in imminent danger I guess you'll have to be going, Angel. Buffy shouldn't stay up much longer. She has a psych test in the morning." 

Angelus nodded. "I suppose I can still find a hotel that has a vacancy." The second he'd heard Joyce was out of town, he knew how to play the scenario. 

Just as he had anticipated, Buffy rose to the bait. "You don't have anywhere to stay yet?" 

"No, but I can find a hotel room. I just don't like the thought of going back to the mansion. It's so big and empty and lonely, and I'm used to being around people pretty much all the time now." 

"Why don't you stay here, Angel? Like I said, Mom won't be back for a couple of weeks. You can have her room. I'll be right down the hall in case you need anything. I'm house-sitting while Mom's away." 

Angelus knew he only had to put up a token argument and things would work out perfectly. "Are you sure it's all right? I wouldn't want to inconvenience you." 

"It's no problem. I have the space, you need a room..." Buffy shrugged. "What more do you want?" 

"In that case, I'll take you up on your offer. Let me just go out to the car and get my things." Angelus shot a glance at Riley's glowering face before he jogged out to the convertible to retrieve his suitcase and cooler of blood. As he popped the trunk, he concentrated on hearing the conversation that was sure to be taking place between Buffy and Farm Boy in his absence. 

Sure enough, Riley was already complaining. "What are you thinking, Buffy? You just asked a vampire to stay with you." 

"A vampire who's my friend," Buffy replied. "He's proven himself over and over." 

"Not to me, he hasn't." 

"Riley, please, trust my judgement. Angel would never do anything to hurt me and I wouldn't feel right sending him away." 

"I guess I can't say anything that would change your mind," Finn whined. 

Buffy sighed. "It isn't like that. This isn't about you." 

"No, obviously not." 

"I'll make it up to you, I promise," Buffy said in a softer voice. 

Angelus grimaced. He sincerely hoped not. As he crossed the porch, he deliberately walked heavily, and the conversation inside quickly halted. Angelus shoved open the front door, dropped his bag, and held up the cooler. "I'm going to the kitchen to take care of this." 

"Sure." Buffy nodded. 

Angelus retreated to the other room and removed his small supply of blood from the cooler. He couldn't leave it in its original packaging or Buffy would know it was human and start asking nosy questions. As Angelus searched for a suitable container, he resumed his eavesdropping on the couple in the living room. 

Riley was still complaining, only in a lower voice this time. "At least let me stay in the house too? In case he tries anything." 

"I am not continuing this conversation," Buffy warned him. 

Finn must not have been quite as stupid as Angelus had figured, because he backed down a bit. "I worry about you, Buffy." 

"You don't have to, you know. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." Buffy sounded like she'd made that statement quite a few times before. 

Angelus hummed to himself as he carefully squeezed the contents of a bag into Joyce's crystal pitcher. Riley and Buffy were arguing about him. How long until *that* relationship collapsed like a drained blood vessel? Especially with *him* around to act as accelerant. He shoved the pitcher to the back of the refrigerator and returned to the living room, pleased to see that Buffy was on her feet with her shoulders tense and Riley was standing halfway across the room from her. 

Buffy smiled when she saw Angelus in the doorway. "Let me help you get settled upstairs." 

"Riley." Angelus briefly acknowledged the other man as he collected his suitcase and trailed Buffy up the stairs and down the hall toward Joyce's room. Once they were well away from Finn, he asked in his most concerned tone, "Are you sure my staying here is okay with you?" 

Buffy stopped in front of the hall closet and selected a fresh pillowcase and sheet. "You heard Riley and me just now, didn't you? I'm sorry about that. I have to explain something about him to you. He's part of a group called the Initiative that hunts demons. I told him about you in case you ever came back to visit so he would know you're not like other vampires and he should leave you alone. I guess I didn't do such a good job of getting the message across. But as soon as he gets to know you a little better, I'm positive you two will be friends." She led Angelus into her mother's room and began to make the bed. 

"I'm sure you're right, Buffy," Angelus lied. 

She tucked in the sheet and continued, "If you go out at night, you ought to be careful about showing your game face. Riley will leave you alone, but the other Initiative members don't know about you and I don't want to tell them. I don't trust them." 

"No need to worry," Angelus said impatiently. "You're not the only one who can handle yourself." The day he needed a Slayer to give him safety tips was the day he hung up his fangs. 

"Sorry," Buffy apologized. "I just don't want anything bad to happen to you." She surveyed the room. "Think you're all set? I'd stay longer and talk to you more, but Riley was right. I have to get some sleep before that test." 

"That's all right. I'm kind of tired myself." Angelus held the door open so Buffy would take the hint to leave. Being so sickeningly polite was quite a strain. The second Buffy was out of his hair, he flopped down on the bed in relief. Christ, she had even fluffed his pillow for him. Was his revenge going to be pathetically easy or what? 

It wasn't long before Angelus heard subdued goodbyes exchanged downstairs, followed by the sound of Riley's car moving away. He continued to listen as Buffy prepared for bed in complete ignorance of the threat she had welcomed into her own home. Angelus waited until he heard her breathing pattern even out, then closed his eyes and drifted into delicious dreams of world dominance, agonizing torture, and demonic evil. Unlife was sweet indeed. 

  
TBC 


	4. Dreams

Previously: Pretending to be Angel, Angelus returned to Sunnydale intent on getting revenge on Buffy and her friends. When he met Riley, Angelus took an instant dislike to him and decided to include him in his plans. Buffy invited Angelus to stay at her house. 

Reminder: Although this story is set in season 4 of "Buffy," I am ignoring certain events that occurred. So, status is: Buffy and Willow are attending UC Sunnydale, while Xander is not. Oz left town, and the Willow/Tara and Xander/Anya relationships developed as seen on the show. Spike never returned; Faith didn't come out of her coma. Buffy knows Riley is a member of the Initiative, he knows she's the Slayer, but Adam doesn't exist. Buffy and Riley are dating but have not slept together yet.   


Demon Bait, Ch. 4/9: Dreams 

Angelus was dreaming. He stood in his favorite type of room, a dungeon, with a cabinet crammed with torture instruments open before him. He surveyed his choices. He could start slowly, with the riding crop and the screwdriver, or he could skip ahead several steps to the chainsaw and the flamethrower. Did he really have the patience to proceed gradually with this particular individual? He considered, then made his selection and carried the items across the room to his chained, gagged, and blindfolded victim. 

He ripped the blindfold off so that his prisoner could see what was in store for him. "Good afternoon...Riley." Angelus smiled his most malevolent smile, the cold, chilling one with lots of fang. "You thought you were better than me, didn't you? You thought you could steal Buffy and not suffer any consequences. Well, *I'm* the only one allowed to love, hate, kiss, or kill her." He held up his hydraulic pump, box of rusty nails, and cat o' nine tails. 

Riley's eyes bulged. "Mmmm, mmmm!" he moaned through the gag, thrashing and fighting to break free. 

"You'll never get loose, you know," Angelus informed him. "You think I would be that careless? No way. We're going to have some fun today!" He tore the gag from Riley's mouth, and Finn instantly started screaming a high-pitched coward's scream that only seemed to get louder. And louder. And louder. 

Until it woke Angelus up. The noise, unfortunately, was not that of Riley screeching in fear. It was actually the sound of an army of fire trucks racing down the street. The piercing noise quickly died down as the vehicles passed the house and continued on their way. 

Angelus sighed. The dream had had the makings of a very depraved one, but he'd been awakened just as it was starting to get bad. He'd always loved playing the vampiric equivalent of a mad scientist. Ah, well. He'd slept most of the day away, and it was about time he got up. He dragged himself out of bed, took a shower, dressed, and skulked downstairs. It was mid-afternoon and Buffy was long gone, but she had been considerate enough to cover the windows so he didn't have to worry about sunburn. And taped to the refrigerator door was a note. "Angel--went to class. Back this afternoon. Buffy." How sweet. Saccharine sweet. Angelus crumpled the note and pitched it in the trash. 

He retrieved his pitcher of blood, microwaved himself a cup of O positive, and made his way into the living room. Ordinarily during daylight hours, he'd have a playroom set up with a few victims to entertain him, just like his dream-Riley. At Buffy's, he only had the TV set. Angelus shook his head in wonder. Sixty cable channels, and not a single one was devoted to torture. 

He flicked through them all anyway, just in case, but came up blank and ended up settling for the Style Channel. A perky hostess announced, "This season, black is the new black and will be used for anything from shoes to skirts. In other news, spandex is in and leather is out." 

Angelus snorted and changed the channel. The woman had shot her credibility with one sentence. Leather was *always* in. 

He zapped around for several more minutes before concluding that the Style Channel might have been the best he was going to do. Damn Buffy anyway. What did she expect him to do all day while she was gone? Angelus wondered if by chance she had any videotapes full of scenes of carnage and destruction. He had to get his fix somehow. He snooped around until he found a movie collection in a nearby cabinet. "Breakfast at Tiffany's." "Jerry Maguire." "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs." "Sleepless in Seattle." It just got worse and worse. Why no "Vampire That Ate Seattle" or "Die, Humans, Die"? 

Angelus was getting desperate when he spotted a handwritten note on top of the VCR. "Buffy--Don't forget to tape 'Passions' while I'm gone. Love, Mom." Angel didn't watch much TV, so Angelus wasn't sure what "Passions" was. If he had to guess, he'd say some type of porn, but he couldn't picture the uptight Joyce Summers asking her daughter to record adult movies for her. His curiosity piqued, Angelus flicked on the VCR and rewound the tape to play it from the beginning. The first scene featured two teenage girls. One was rambling, "Fate! Ethan and I are meant to be together. It's only a matter of time." Angelus growled. "Passions" was a daytime soap opera. Well, sadly, it wasn't like he had anything better to do than watch it. He decided to keep the tape playing until the show put him back to sleep. Maybe he could pick up where he had left off with the Riley-dream and get to hack off a few limbs or press that flamethrower into action. 

Instead, half an hour later, he found himself engrossed in the show. It actually wasn't too bad. In fact, it featured a couple of excellent characters: a witch and her partner-in-crime, a doll she had sewn together and brought to life. They almost made up for the absolute worst character: a virtuous angel girl who glowed like a lantern and spouted platitudes of goodness that had Angelus close to hurling. Still, all in all, it was a reasonably entertaining program. Angelus even managed to capitalize on the whiny-teenager scenes and pick up some sappy romantic dialogue to try out on Buffy. 

By the time the tape ended, dusk was approaching and Buffy hadn't yet returned. Angelus was starting to become incredibly irritated. He hated to be ignored and by rights, he should have been the center of attention. At long last, he heard two cars pull up outside the house. Doors opened and slammed, and Angelus set himself to listen; he wasn't below eavesdropping. 

First came a voice he recognized as that of Buffy's mousy little friend, Willow. "Where's this surprise you've been talking about? I'm dying to see it!" 

"It's inside. Come on," Buffy responded. She unlocked the door and entered the house, followed by Willow and Riley. "Angel! I'm back!" she shouted before she spotted him in the corner of the room. "Oh, there you are. Sorry I'm so late. I had a lot to do at school. Anyway, I brought some old friends to see you." 

Angelus eyed the redhead. "Well, well. If it isn't Willow." Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to be overly enthusiastic. She'd given him his soul back, and he was still holding a grudge over that one. 

"Angel!" Willow smiled broadly, then to Angelus' annoyance ran over and hugged him. He fought to keep from recoiling. 

The door swung open again to reveal Xander and a brunette girl half-hidden behind him. Xander's gaze fell on Angelus and he stopped in his tracks. "Wow. Deadboy. Color me underwhelmed. When Buffy said she had a surprise for us, I thought it would be one I'd like." 

That was one reaction Angelus could appreciate. Unfortunately, he couldn't reciprocate in kind or he'd blow his cover. Instead, he merely looked down his nose at the twit and remained silent. 

Xander slowly proceeded into the room, and Buffy indicated his companion. "You remember Anya, of course." 

Angelus nodded. He felt a certain kinship with the former vengeance demon. He'd been trapped inside wet-blanket Angel, unable to be his true self; she was trapped in the body of a teenage girl, unable to be *her* true self. In a way, though, Anya was even worse off than he had been: She was reduced to dating Xander. Oh, how the mighty had fallen. 

Buffy went on, "I knew the gang would want to see you again, and I figured we could go to Giles' together so you can fill us in as a group about this thing that brought you to town. Only, we're stopping at the mall first for a few minutes. I need to pick up a couple things and if we see Giles right away, he'll go into total research mode and we won't be able to escape for hours." 

"Fine. Works for me." Angelus set aside his blood cup and trailed the others to the door, his brain working swiftly. He'd already assessed his opponents and dismissed Xander as a nonentity. The boy couldn't buy a clue if someone handed him correct change and told him where to get it. Anya was too self-absorbed to care what he did, plus she hadn't known Angel very well. Riley was overconfident and had an ego to match. Buffy was somewhat lacking in the smarts department. Willow was more on the ball, but he could play on her sense of compassion. That left Giles. The Watcher was the most intelligent member of the group, the most logical, and the second most experienced, behind only Anya. If he suspected Angelus was back, he might well stake first and ask questions later. It was vitally important that Angelus snow Giles as well as he had the others so far. 

TBC 


	5. Infiltration

Demon Bait  
Chapter 5/9: Infiltration 

Previously: Pretending to be Angel, Angelus returned to Sunnydale intent on getting revenge on Buffy and her friends. His plan is to get close to them again, then betray them. Buffy invited Angelus to stay at her house. 

******* 

After agreeing to meet up at the mall, Xander took Anya in his car while the others got into Riley's vehicle. Angelus found himself sitting in the back next to Willow. 'Better her than Buffy,' he thought. 'And *definitely* better her than Riley.' Farm Boy had been behaving in a less then friendly manner, and Angelus didn't know how long he could restrain himself around the idiot. Patience only went so far when dealing with a cretin like Finn. 

As Riley drove, Buffy and Willow quizzed Angelus about his life in L.A. They also filled him in on some of the events that had taken place in Sunnydale during his absence, which recitation basically went: "killed demon, staked vampire, etc." As for the gang's status, the girls reported that Giles hadn't yet found a new job following the events of graduation day and was being a "gentleman of leisure," as Willow phrased it. Or "damn lazy," in Angelus' view. Xander had been bouncing from minimum-wage position to minimum-wage position (Willow called it "seeking his niche"; Angelus privately called it "going nowhere") and was currently working in the esteemed field of pizza delivery. 

By the time Riley pulled into the mall parking lot, Angelus had heard more about the Slayerettes and their pathetic existences than he had ever wanted to learn. He was beginning to discern perhaps a fatal flaw in his revenge scenario; he could only stand to be around the gang in small doses. 

They joined Xander and Anya at the mall entrance, and Buffy checked her watch. "We need to make this pretty quick. I know exactly what I have to get, so how about we meet back here in 20 minutes?" 

Before Buffy could ask him to tag along with her and Riley, Angelus seized the opportunity to log a little time away from his irritating companions. He loped off down the corridor, past the commonplace clothing shops with their pedestrian goods made of such materials as cotton, polyester, wool, and rayon. He might have to wear it, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Even worse was a store full of every kind of mirror one could imagine. As far as Angelus was concerned, the only place mirrors belonged was in a torture chamber, so his victims could observe their punishments in glorious detail. 

Angelus had almost reached the end of the mall before he spotted a store he deemed worthy of his presence. The luxurious scent of the finest material in the world drifted over and beckoned him in. He was immediately drawn to a fine pair of leather pants hanging on the front of a rack. He reached out and reverently stroked the material. It felt so good beneath his palm--sleek, horribly expensive, and worth every cent. He was in love. The affair didn't last long enough, though, because... 

"Angel!" Willow called from the doorway. "Everyone's waiting for you. We're ready to leave." 

Angelus gave the leather one last longing look before he allowed himself to be summoned away. Willow trotted along at his side as they made their way back toward the front of the mall, occasionally flicking nervous glances at him before she cleared her throat. "Angel, I have to ask you something. I saw what you were doing in that store. You weren't going to buy those pants, were you?" 

"No, of course not." She bit her lip, and Angelus took a calculated risk and laid it on thick. "Sometimes I need to remind myself of Angelus, of what he was like and what he could do again. The leather does that to me." For effect, he forced his lower lip to quiver. 

"Oh, Angel!" Willow cried. "I had no idea...I mean, I knew you have this huge guilt complex but I never realized it was like *that* for you. I'm so sorry I even mentioned the subject." 

Angelus hung his head. "It's all right, Willow. It's no more than I deserve. I accepted that fact a long time ago." 

Willow looked like she was about to burst into tears, she felt so guilty and sorry for him. Spirits lifted, Angelus felt ready to face the group again. Doling out mental torment had always been one of his favorite parts of the game. 

A few minutes later, they rejoined Buffy and the others at the exit. "Where have you been?" Riley asked, looking directly at Angelus. "We've been waiting ages." 

"Oh, Angel and I were window-shopping and we lost track of time." From behind Riley's back, Willow winked at Angelus. 

Inwardly cringing at the indignity of a master vampire forming such a gesture, he winked back. Willow grinned conspiratorially at him. Well, Angelus thought, it was worth it to have her firmly back in his corner. She'd never suspect the truth about him now. 

The fact that Willow had claimed partial blame took the wind out of Riley's sails, and he didn't say another word as the group filed back through the parking lot. Angelus noted that Buffy was clutching a small plastic shopping bag and Riley a giant one. He wondered what it contained: cowboy boots, a framed hog portrait, a copy of "How to Bore People Without Even Trying"? He didn't get a chance to find out, though, since Riley shoved both bags in the trunk before jumping behind the wheel again. With a flick of his wrist, he turned on the radio to a preset station. 

"Angel, what did you--?" Buffy started to ask. 

The remainder her question went unspoken Riley began to sing along to the radio: "Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind." 

Willow shifted in her seat. "Riley, maybe you should change the station." 

He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. "Why? I love Kansas. They're a great group." 

"'Cause of Angel." 

Riley automatically looked for Angelus in the mirror, too, before seeming to realize he wouldn't find him. "You mean Angel doesn't like Kansas?" 

"No, she means Angel might object to the lyrics," Buffy interjected. 

"Hey, this song is harmless," Riley protested, briefly humming along. "We're hardly talking Eminem here." 

"'Dust in the wind'?" Buffy quoted. "Come on, Riley." 

Riley looked puzzled. "Yeah, dust in the wind. So what?...Oh! Dust, as in vampires go poof. Well, that's not the meaning behind the song. I'm sure Angel understands and doesn't mind listening to it, do you? Or are you one of those politically correct vampires that prefers to be called an 'undead American'?" Riley laughed loudly at his own joke. 

Angelus waited for the hideous noise to die down before he replied. "Vampire works fine for me." He paused. "You know, Buffy asked me that 'undead American' question a couple years ago. I think she apologized, though." 

Riley scowled. "Sheesh, okay, I'll change the station." 

As he did so, Buffy reached behind her seat and squeezed Angelus' hand. Score two for the demon! He gently squeezed back, imagining how it would feel when he got down to business and tore those same tendons into useless, dangling shreds. 

The remainder of the ride to Giles' passed quietly. Once again, they met up with Anya and Xander, and they all proceeded together to the door. Angelus stood to the side as Buffy rang the bell. 

Several seconds later, Giles opened the door. "Buffy? What are you doing here with everyone? Did I forget about a meeting?" 

"The day you forget anything is the day I seriously worry." Buffy motioned for Angelus to step forward. "Look who's back." 

"Angel." Giles reached up and adjusted his glasses. "This is unexpected. What brings you to town? Business or pleasure?" 

"Business, I'm afraid. Now, it might be nothing, but I thought it was better to be safe than sorry. I was in a popular demon bar in Los Angeles, hanging out trying to pick up information, and I overheard two Quord monsters talking about a powerful weapon that is either being built in Sunnydale or will be brought here soon. Of course, I questioned them but they didn't know any more details. It turns out they heard the story from another demon. It might not be true. But if it is, from the sounds of things, you'll need all the help you can get." 

Angelus was very proud of the little black lie he had made up. It was simple, believable, and open-ended. Plus, if it never came to be, no one could prove he had lied. They would merely assume his informants had been wrong. 

Giles nodded, the story apparently raising no warning flags. "Best that you informed us, then. Riley, has the Initiative reported any suspicious activity that might shed some light on Angel's findings?" 

Riley shook his head. "Not a whisper." 

"This situation will require some research, I'm afraid," Giles stated. "I hope you all are prepared." 

Xander held up a large cardboard container. "Already picked up the doughnuts." 

"And I have the coffee," Anya chimed in. 

"Very well, then. Everyone make yourselves comfortable, and I'll split up the workload." Giles collected numerous books and other types of reference material while the others took up positions around the room. 

For the next several hours, everyone paged through volume after volume of lore, searching for any applicable prophecies. Giles occasionally questioned Angelus about his time in Los Angeles, but the vampire managed to equivocate and avoid giving away any information the Watcher could utilize against his demonic brethren. 

Eventually, after hours of hunting, Giles stood and stretched. "I believe we've done all we can for tonight. All of us are growing tired, and I know Xander has only been looking at the pictures for at least the past hour." 

Anya poked Xander with her elbow and hissed, "See? I told you he could tell." 

Giles continued, "We've managed to flag several passages that might possibly be pertinent to the matter at hand. I'll research them in the morning and fill you in on my findings." 

"So you don't think we're in immediate danger?" Riley asked. 

Giles nodded. "With any luck, the conversation Angel overheard was merely a rumor blown far out of proportion. I see little evidence to the contrary so far." 

"That's good, then," Willow chirped. "Demons with super-weapons would be majorly of the bad." 

"True," Giles agreed. "I'll keep you informed. Angel, thank you for the warning. It was good to see you again." 

Angelus gleefully noted that the Watcher's eyes held no hint of suspicion as he said goodbye. Satisfied with his night's work, he was content to make idle conversation while Riley drove to the college to drop Willow off and then headed back to the Summers' home. Once there, however, Angelus quickly escaped from the car. A little of Riley went a long way. 

Buffy smiled at him through the car window. "'Night, Angel." 

"Goodnight, Buffy, Riley." Angelus retreated inside the house but didn't hear Buffy following. Of course, she would be saying a private goodbye to Finn. Well, Angelus wasn't going to let it remain private. He poised himself near the living-room window to better listen to the conversation outside. Except Buffy and Riley weren't talking. Instead, Angelus heard the sound of Riley-lips smacking away at Buffy's mouth. For an instant, he almost--*almost*--felt sorry for the Slayer. 

The smacking abruptly halted, and was followed by the question, "Why not, Buffy?" 

"Angel is here," she answered in a low voice. 

"I wasn't thinking we'd do it with him in the house. We'll go to my place or get a hotel room." 

"I wouldn't feel right," Buffy responded. "And he'll know what happened if I just disappear with you for the rest of the night." 

"So?" Riley whined. "You're my girlfriend, not his. He ought to realize we might want to have sex sometimes. It's normal." 

Buffy sighed. "These aren't the ideal circumstances for our first time together." 

"Well, what's going to be? You've been putting me off for weeks now. If it's not one excuse, it's another. This time it's Angel. Hey, maybe it's really been Angel every single time, like when you said you were too tired or had to patrol or needed to study. Are you forgetting that he left you? He dumped you like week-old trash." 

Angelus winced as Buffy's voice ratcheted up a few decibels. "It wasn't like that. Angel didn't leave because he didn't care; he left because he cared too much. What do you have against him anyway? He came here to help us." 

Frustration coated Riley's voice. "You said I'd like him. Well, I don't. There's something really weird about him, and it's not just that he's a vampire." 

Buffy answered in an equally frustrated tone. "Angel has done nothing but be friendly and helpful, and you have no right to insult him. If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything or all. Or better yet, just leave." 

"Fine!" There ensued the sounds of a car door opening and slamming, and tires peeling off down the street. 

With the drama over, Angelus moved away from the window, deep in thought. So, Buffy and Farm Boy hadn't gone all the way yet. Good thing he was around to make sure they never did. In fact, as long as he could help it, no one in their little circle would ever do *anything* enjoyable again. 

TBC 


	6. Misery

Chapter 6/9: Misery 

The next afternoon, Angelus found himself roused from bed at an undemonly hour of daylight. Not that he had much of a choice; for seemingly ages, Buffy had been making enough noise to wake the undead. If she wasn't blasting music or gabbing on the phone, she was slamming cabinets shut or running back and forth on errands. She'd told him last night that she didn't have any classes today, and now he was wishing she had. All day. 

Angelus slowly counted out 10 reasons he couldn't kill Buffy...yet, then made his way into the kitchen, where Buffy simply had to be because that was the main source of the racket. Sure enough, she was sitting at the table writing out a list while she listened to a blaring radio. She looked up as Angelus entered the room and turned off the music. "Hi, Angel. Sleep well?" It was just as well she didn't give him time to answer. "Giles just phoned. None of the prophecies we found last night panned out, but I'll ask around at Willy's tonight and maybe we'll find something to go on there. I'd love it if you'd come with me on patrol tonight. We haven't had much alone time so far." 

'Oh, joy,' thought Angelus. He would probably have to kill several of his comrades while accompanying his mortal enemy. The price one paid for pretending to be good. Aloud, he restrained himself to saying, "Sounds like old times." 

Buffy beamed. "That's exactly what I thought. I'm really looking forward to it!" She glanced at her list, then jumped up and opened the refrigerator door to rummage inside. "Now, that's strange. My hot sauce is gone, too, along with my taco shells. I could have sworn I still had some left." She sat back down and scribbled another item on the bottom of her list. 

Angelus edged away and neatly dropped a paper towel on top of the open wastebasket, hoping Buffy wouldn't check the garbage and find the remnants of her food. The tacos had made a delicious midnight snack, but one that was a little lacking in flavor. Hence, the copious use of hot sauce. He'd have a hard time explaining the theft to Buffy, though. Angel had rarely eaten human food, but that was partly because of his self-imposed martyrdom. Angelus wasn't anywhere near that stupid and self-sacrificing. Buffy had taco shells, he wanted taco shells, he took taco shells and enjoyed every bite. He just wouldn't confess to the Slayer, because she would find his behavior more than a little questionable. 

"Good thing I'm going shopping with Xander and Anya," Buffy rambled on. "You know, because they have a car and I, well, I don't. I really need to restock. I hate to leave you alone, Angel, but we arranged this trip last week. You actually got up just in time. They're going to pick me up any minute." 

"Oh, I'm sure I'll find something to keep me amused while you're gone." Angelus actually had plans to watch "Passions," but he wasn't about to admit it to Buffy. She'd probably rave about how her mother was a fan of the show and urge him to watch it with Joyce when she came back. Being forced to spend any amount of time with Buffy's mother was torture of an unnatural manner. 

The doorbell chimed. "That must be them now!" Buffy grabbed her list and headed to the front of the house, trailed by Angelus. He stayed far to the side as she opened the door to greet her friends. "Hey, Xander, Anya. Right on time." 

"You ready to leave?" Xander asked. 

Anya peeked through the doorway. "Hi, Angel." 

Xander didn't utter a word of greeting, but that was par for the course. The boy had never had much use for Angel--he'd been too envious of the relationship the vampire had quickly established with Buffy. Though why he had ever thought he had a chance with her, Angelus could not fathom. Despite all her shortcomings, the fact remained that Buffy was the Chosen One. Xander was simply a high-school nerd. Even Angel, the pinnacle of vampiric ineptitude, had been far superior to Xander on his best day. 

Therefore, Angelus failed to greet Xander but did wave at Anya, so far the only member of the group who didn't make his fangs itch, and watched as Buffy slipped outside. He was pretty pleased that she was taking off. "Passions" was about to start and he was anxious to see what happened. 

Angelus settled down on the couch to watch the show and quickly became riveted by that episode's events. In fact, he was so absorbed in watching a climactic scene involving Timmy the doll and a pit of quicksand that he didn't hear footsteps approaching the house. But he definitely noticed when the front door swung open and a flood of sunlight shot toward him through the opening. Utilizing his superior speed and reflexes, Angelus leaped to cover just in time to avoid a severe case of sunburn, and turned to glare at the intruder. 

Or rather, the two intruders. One was Willow, while the other was a blonde woman he didn't know. Willow immediately turned and slammed the door. "Angel, I'm so sorry! We came here to see Buffy and since the door was unlocked we figured it was okay to walk on in like we always do." 

Which was a pretty crappy apology for nearly setting someone on fire, but it seemed like it was the best he was going to get. "Buffy isn't here." Angelus studied the two women, who had moved to stand close together. They were also holding hands and intertwining fingers. Interesting. Very interesting, indeed. 

Noticing his curious look, Willow explained, "This is my friend Tara. Tara, Angel." 

Under his steady regard, Tara slowly turned as red as a strawberry and muttered, "N-n-nice to meet you." 

"Likewise." Angelus idly wondered what sort of vampire Tara might make. Sometimes the quiet ones really surprised him. 

Willow glanced around the room. "Do you know where Buffy is or when she'll be back?" 

"She just left for the grocery store with Xander and Anya. They could be a while." Angelus looked back toward the TV set, where Timmy was still struggling in the quicksand. 

Willow followed his gaze. "Okay, well, we didn't need to see her about anything important. I'll give her a call later on. Bye, Angel." 

Tara murmured something incomprehensible as the couple left, and Angelus resumed watching his show. He probably should have been more welcoming toward two of Buffy's friends, but he was in an even less charitable mood than usual. Luckily, by the time Buffy, Anya, and Xander returned, "Passions" was over and Angelus decided to help unpack the groceries. Some of the stuff Buffy had chosen looked pretty good. Just as he stuffed the last pizza in the freezer, he remembered, "Oh, by the way, Willow and her girlfriend stopped by a while ago." 

Anya furrowed her brow. "Willow has a girlfriend?" 

"Tara," Angelus elaborated. 

"He doesn't mean 'girlfriend,'" Buffy clarified. "He means 'girl *friend*,' as in her 'friend who happens to be female.'" 

"No," Angelus said patiently, "I mean girlfriend as in 'lover who happens to be female.' Or if they aren't lovers already, they will be soon. You can tell just by looking at them. The nervous sideways glances, the hand holding, that sort of thing." 

Buffy gasped loudly. "Oh, my God, I think you're right!" 

Xander's jaw dropped. "She is?" 

Anya merely shrugged and looked bored. 

Buffy shook herself and attempted to make a recovery. "Um, okay. I guess I'm going to go away and think about this for a little while." 

Xander's mouth was still hanging open, and his eyes had glazed over. Anya not so gently whapped him on the arm. "And we are going to go away and I am going to not let Xander think about it, thank you very much." She shot Angelus a dirty look as she pulled Xander away and out of the house. 

Alone, Angelus smirked. So, he'd outed Willow to her little friends. Okay, how was he supposed to have known they hadn't already heard the truth, but accident or not, it still counted as a check mark in his column. He honestly didn't see why it should matter who Willow dated, but apparently Buffy had a different outlook. And since the situation bothered her, maybe he could take advantage of her vulnerability. He had been awaiting this prime opportunity since his arrival in town. Angelus loped up the stairs to Buffy's bedroom, ready to make his move. 

The door was wide open, and Buffy was perched on the end of her bed, staring into space. Angelus slowly entered and sat beside her, playing it cautiously. It turned out to be the right strategy, because after several seconds of heavy silence Buffy began to speak in a low, sad voice. "You know, I never would guessed Willow is gay. Or bisexual. Or whatever. She didn't say one word about it to me, her best friend. I must have said or done something to make her feel like she couldn't trust me with the truth. I'm such an idiot." 

Angelus really couldn't argue with that assessment, so he ignored the comment and rolled out his rehearsed lines. "Buffy, you are the kindest, most generous person I know. I'm sure it isn't your fault that Willow didn't confide in you. Please don't blame yourself." 

Buffy sniffed and blinked back tears. "Oh, Angel, that's so sweet of you." She enveloped him in a very strong, very wet hug. 

Angelus briefly returned it before he pulled back a bit. Even then, she might have already ruined his favorite shirt, but he gamely pressed on. "I have a confession to make. I only hope you hear me out." Buffy gazed at him, hanging on his every word. Angelus continued, "You have no idea how lonely I was in Los Angeles. I discovered that I can't live without you any longer. Buffy, I love you. I never stopped. You know and I know that we belong together, now and forever. Tell me you still feel the same way. " 

Buffy stared up at him with her typical blank expression, the one that meant she either had no idea what he'd just said or he'd stunned her into silence. Either reaction worked for Angelus. He leaned down and gently pressed his lips to Buffy's, holding back, holding back, holding back... Then just as he had hoped, Buffy took the initiative, deepening the kiss, and Angelus brought his tongue into play as he eased his hand up under her blouse. His plan was working perfectly! 

Until Buffy tore her lips away and pushed at his shoulders. "No, Angel, we can't!" 

He ignored her and leaned back in, but Buffy turned her head away. Frustrated, Angelus snapped, "What's wrong?" 

"You know. You'll lose your soul if we do anything." 

Angelus groaned and sat back. Once again, that pesky soul was ruining things for him, even when it wasn't in control. Angelus realized he probably wasn't getting any today, at least not from the Slayer. But he wasn't about to give up quite so easily. He plastered his best approximation of a shamed expression upon his face and nodded. "You're right, Buff. Buffy. I guess I just got carried away. I'm more sorry than words can express." 

'Buff.' Angelus winced. How smooth. Like even Buffy wouldn't notice *that* clumsy slip. But it seemed to sail right over her empty head as she babbled on. 

"You'd lose your soul, and there's Riley," Buffy added. "I can't do this to him. It wouldn't be fair. I love him." 

"But what if I wouldn't lose my soul?" Angelus cleverly suggested. "Think about it--if I know what will happen if I'm ever perfectly happy, that will stop me from being able to feel that way because I'll always have that worry in the back of my mind." 

Buffy frowned. While he waited for her to connect the dots, Angelus counted the number of squares on her quilt. He was up to 34 before Buffy spoke. 

"Oh! You mean that once you know about the loophole in the curse, it can't hurt you." 

"Right. Now you're catching on." 'Finally,' Angelus added to himself. 

"But even if you're right, I still can't be with you. I love Riley," Buffy insisted. "I know it must hurt you to hear this, but *you're* the one who left me. You wanted me to move on with my life, and I have. With Riley." 

Angelus patted her hand and smiled a thin, pathetic Angel-smile. "I understand, Buffy. I really do. Don't worry about me. I'm more than two centuries old and I can survive a crushing disappointment from the only person I've ever loved in all that time. Your happiness is all that matters to me. Always remember that." He lightly kissed her on the cheek and dragged himself out of the room, shoulders slumped. 

The minute he was back in the safety of Joyce's room, Angelus straightened and listened to the sweet sound of Buffy's sobs, each tear a symbol of her mental anguish. He could barely restrain himself from pumping his fist in celebration. Reducing Buffy to misery was like taking blood from a baby: just as easy, and every bit as sweet. 


	7. Teamwork

Demon Bait, Chapter 7/9: Teamwork 

A few hours later, Angelus was still basking in his success when he heard a vehicle stop in the driveway. He recognized the unwelcome sound of Riley's car and growled in irritation. He had hoped he'd banished his opponent for at least a couple of days. However, considering the fact that Farm Boy had stumbled into a blow-up with Buffy just the previous day, *and* that he himself had made a serious move on her, Angelus was optimistic the Slayer would promptly send Finn on his way. He listened as she went outside to greet the moron, then crept to a window on the shady side of the house where he could safely observe the proceedings. 

Riley was clutching an armload of gifts and kissing up to the Slayer. "Buffy, I'm sorry about last night. I was jealous and hurt, and I hope you'll forgive me for being such a jerk." He handed over first a bouquet of red roses, then a large box of chocolates. 

Angelus sneered. What prosaic and unimaginative offerings. If *he* had been apologizing to *his* girlfriend (though of course Angelus never apologized because he was never in the wrong), but anyway, if he had been trying to make up with his pissed-off girlfriend, he would have come up with a unique gift idea: a demon-in-the-box or the skull of a virgin witch, for instance. Something special that would prove his originality, not items one could purchase at Wal-Mart. When would Buffy see Riley for the insensitive clodhopper he was? 

Apparently, not yet. Angelus could see tears glistening in her eyes as Riley spoke on. 

"And I admit, I had something against Angel before I even met the guy. After all, he hurt you." 

Buffy smiled mistily. "Oh, Riley, that's so touching." 

"Why don't we go out tonight, let me make it up to you?" Riley asked eagerly. "Anywhere you choose." 

Buffy shifted uneasily. "I'm sorry, you probably aren't going to like this, but I promised Angel that I would patrol with him tonight. We haven't been able to spend much time together yet because of school and all, and I can't skip another night of patrol." 

"Oh." Riley looked unaccountably disappointed. "Well, that's okay, Buffy. I can't say I like the idea of you spending time with Angel, but I also think it's admirable you've stayed on such good terms with your ex. It just goes to prove what a special woman you are. Can we go out tomorrow night instead?" 

Buffy hesitated for long seconds. For a moment, Angelus thought the memory of his vampiric charms would make her shove the paltry gifts back in Farm Boy's face. Then she appeared to reach a decision, and not one in Angelus' favor. For some bizarre reason known only to her, she smiled at Riley. "Yes, tomorrow would be fine." 

As Riley initiated a liplock with the Slayer, Angelus turned away from the window. He paced back to his room, moodily threw himself upon his bed, and reviewed the situation. Riley had been far too understanding when Buffy had told him about her plans with "Angel." Angelus wondered if there was even a sliver of a chance he had underestimated Farm Boy's intelligence. He hated to second-guess himself, but what choice did he have? Either Riley was diabolically clever, or damn lucky. 

As for Buffy, she had barely seemed to spare a thought as to how "Angel" would feel when she once again chose Riley over him. Angelus had truly believed he'd done a better job on her earlier. Apparently, he was slipping. He supposed being out of practice did that to even a master, but even so the idea didn't sit well with him. He would definitely have to redouble his efforts. Buffy and Riley were together and happy, and that just wasn't right. 

Angelus fell into a troubled sleep, where for the first time he opened his mind to the possibility of failure. 

Hours later, a tentative tap on his door roused him. "Angel?" Buffy's voice was uncertain, always a good sign. 

Angelus restrained a smirk and slowly levered himself up. Why had he doubted himself? He still had it! He counted to 10 before he strolled to the door and eased it open. "Yes, Buffy?" 

She stared at a spot on the wall beside his ear. "Do you still want to go on patrol like we talked about earlier? After what happened, I'll understand if you don't." 

"Of course I'll go with you, Buffy. No matter what else goes on between us, I'll always be here when you need help." Together, they proceeded downstairs. As Buffy jammed her favorite stake, the absurdly-named "Mr. Pointy," into her pocket, Angelus spotted the roses proudly displayed in a clear vase on the coffee table, and resisted the strong urge to shred them. "Let me just get something to drink before we leave." 

As he turned toward the kitchen, Buffy cleared her throat. "I already got it for you." She reached behind the vase and grabbed a large mug that was filled to the brim with red fluid. 

Angelus reluctantly accepted it and gave the liquid a suspicious sniff. It smelled absolutely putrid. In short, it *didn't* smell like his top-of-the-line O positive. "What is this?" he asked Buffy, not sure he wanted to hear the answer. 

She looked at the floor. "Well, I didn't want to have to admit this, but I accidentally spilled your blood. I'm really sorry. But I ran out to the butcher's and got you a replacement. It's fresh pig's blood, so it's better than the stuff I spilled." 

"Uh. Thanks," Angelus said weakly. Christ! The bitch had presented him with the cheap shit like it was liquid gold and she obviously expected him to enthusiastically slurp it down. And she hadn't even bothered to heat the mug. For once, he was grateful Angel was such a pansy. His souled counterpart had always been reluctant to imbibe in the sainted Buffy's presence, and Angelus planned to take advantage of that fact. 

He raised the cup to his lips and pretended to drink. As Buffy politely looked away, Angelus turned and dumped the full contents of the mug into a nearby potted fern. He quickly returned the container to his lips, fake-gulped one last time, then gratefully set the cup down. 

"How was it?" Buffy asked anxiously. 

"I'm at a loss for words. I don't know how to thank you for taking such extreme care of me, but I'm sure I'll come up with something eventually." 

"Great." Buffy smiled in relief. "When you need more, just go to to the refrigerator. I bought three big bags." 

Angelus made a mental note to avoid that area for the foreseeable future. 

*** 

Due to the convenience of the Plymouth, they quickly arrived at the first graveyard. Possibly because Buffy had skipped patrol the night before, the demons and vampires were out in force. Angelus and Buffy had barely set foot on the grounds when they found themselves surrounded by a gang of female vamps. Angelus counted six before they attacked. 

He tackled the three closest to him, but they were tough, fighting as a team and taking few chances. Angelus found himself working hard to finish off just one. As he killed his first opponent, he glanced over at Buffy, who was caught up in her own raging battle several yards away. She was doing a little better than him, but not much. 

Angelus transformed into vamp face and launched his fiercest attacks. They paid off, as he rapidly slaughtered his remaining opponents and ran over to help Buffy with her last one. Together, they obliterated the final vampire. Angelus was a little surprised to realize how much he'd enjoyed the activity, given that he'd been killing his brethren. Then again, if they were stupid enough to take him on, they deserved to die. 

Their numerous battles over the next hour were no less trying than the first one, and Angelus found himself hard put to keep up the pace. He'd never before realized what a strain it was to keep Buffy alive. In the past he'd always been more intent on killing her than helping her out. At the rate he was going, he'd be exhausted before midnight. On the heels of that realization, he dropped down onto a particularly ugly gravestone to rest his tired legs. 

Buffy peered worriedly at him. "Angel, are you all right? You look pretty tired. Are you sure you've been keeping in shape over in Los Angeles?" 

With an effort, he kept himself from glaring at her. It was her own damn fault he was wiped out. Not only did he have to handle *his* fights, he had to constantly monitor Buffy to make sure she wasn't about to have her neck broken, or be attacked from behind, or get coated with paralyzing Havoc-demon slime. Her beloved Angel had never paid half so much attention to her. Anyway, if he *was* the least tiny bit out of shape, it was really Angel's fault for letting the body go to pot. He could only work with what he'd been given. 

"I'm just fine," Angelus replied through gritted teeth. He slowly rose and surveyed the area. "I think we've about cleaned out this place. How about we split up and make sure before we move on?" 

"Sure." 

Buffy cut to the left, while Angelus stayed in the other half of the cemetery. He didn't actually intend to do much searching. He'd suggested the sweep for two very different reasons. One, he needed a breather, and merely walking around a deserted graveyard was certainly easier than running headlong into another fight, which Buffy was likely to do. Two, he was looking for a snack. If not a human, then he would make do with whatever he *could* locate. Surely one reason he felt so weak was because of sheer hunger. He hadn't been able to feed before leaving the house, and it was only natural that he wouldn't be at his best under those circumstances. Angelus remembered an old trick utilized by desperate vampires who had no available human supply: They would cannibalize one another. It was hardly a desirable action, but it was definitely better than starvation. 

He scented the air and cut toward the far end of the cemetery. Sure enough, a young, stupid vampire was hiding behind a crypt. It was just a fledgling, but it smelled of blood. Angelus pounced and subdued the miserable thing, clamping his fangs into its neck as it struggled feebly in his grasp. He felt the strength flooding back into him with every swallow. When he finished draining the inferior vampire, he twisted its neck and stood back as it dissolved into a cloud of dust. 

Secondhand blood was better than no blood, that was clear. Angelus felt reenergized and ready to proceed with the slaying. He paced back to the middle of the cemetery and looked for Buffy. She was nowhere to be seen. He'd been around her all night up to that point; could she really have gotten herself in trouble the minute his back was turned? Angelus hated to admit it even to himself, but he was a little worried about the missing Slayer. 

The cemetery was the largest one in town, and he covered most of Buffy's half before he closed in on her whereabouts. She had been delayed by a fight against a pair of vampires, but seemed to be doing just fine on her own. Angelus decided to relax and watch the action, possibly refresh his knowledge of Buffy's weak points. 

After a few minutes of the typical punching and kicking, Buffy maneuvered into position to stake the lead vampire. As he went "poof," the one that had been hanging back attacked from the side and knocked Buffy off balance. Ordinarily, she should have been able to recover with little trouble. However, she was fighting close to a row of graves and knocked her head against a marker when she fell. Angelus watched as a stunned Buffy failed to leap up with her usual enthusiasm. She looked like she was genuinely in trouble, and the second vampire wasn't about to make any allowances. 

When he realized he was probably about to witness the Slayer's death, Angelus roared in rage. The thought of some other demon killing her before he got the chance was simply unbearable. He raced across the grounds, determined to stop the lowly vamp from making the biggest kill of his career. Assuming Angelus was an ally, the other demon barely spared him a glance, which turned out to be a huge mistake. Angelus caught the unsuspecting vampire in a flying tackle, grabbed him by the throat, and ripped out his heart in almost one motion. 

When he looked up, Buffy was standing over him, staring at his bloody hand. "Um, thanks, Angel. I think. But you know, I could have taken that one by myself, in a slightly less gory way." 

"It didn't look like it," Angelus muttered, rising and trying to cup the dripping blood in his palm so he could drink it when Buffy wasn't looking. 

"I was playing possum," Buffy explained. "To throw the vamp off balance. Then when he closed in on me I would have taken him by surprise. I've been slaying for a long time, remember. I know some tricks. Not that I don't appreciate your concern. It's always nice to know you still care." 

She stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Angelus "accidentally" swiveled his head just a little so Buffy's lips migrated to his. Even then, she had every opportunity to move away. She didn't, so the passionate kiss that ensued was, naturally, *her* fault, and Angelus savored it all the more until the inevitable moment when Buffy tore herself away. "No. Angel kissage is bad. Very bad. Because it can lead to dangerous things. We can't do this." 

"Right." Angelus deliberately agreed too easily. "You're with Riley, there's the matter of my soul, and I'll be going back to Los Angeles soon." He studied Buffy's innocent, crestfallen little face. He could kill her on the spot, with barely any effort. But he didn't want to. Angelus told himself it was simply too soon; he was biding his time. So instead of taking out his arch-nemesis once and for all, he merely suggested, "Why don't we just finish patrolling?" and accompanied the guilt-stricken, confused Slayer on the remainder of her route. 


	8. Captured

Chapter 8/9: Captured 

Angelus had a plan for getting through the following day. Namely: stay up late. Sleep in. Get up and "help" Buffy with her homework. Pretend to be gently dismayed when she fesses up to having a date with Riley that evening. Retreat to room, ostensibly to brood but not really, because brooding is exclusively an Angel pastime and they have nothing in common except their appearance and a certain craving for blood. 

Angelus followed his routine to the letter, but by early evening he found himself feeling unsettled and restless. He wanted--no, he *needed*--to destroy something. Anything. 

He padded downstairs and spied the monstrous bouquet of roses Riley had bought for Buffy. Ah, an item with a connection to Finn: It was just begging for his attention. He impulsively grabbed the flowers up and peeled one petal from a dusky rose. "She loves him." Then another. "She loves him not." Another. "She loves him." Another. "She loves--" 

"Angel! What do you think you're doing?" Like an avenging fury, Buffy swept down upon him and snatched away the flowers. 

Angelus stood holding the stripped rose and feeling very small but determined to put up a front. "I was removing the dead petals from your bouquet. Riley bought you damaged flowers." 

Buffy looked from the fresh, vibrant bouquet in her arms to the deep red flower in Angelus' hand to the perfectly formed petals littering the floor. "I know you're jealous of him, but aren't you taking matters to an extreme?" 

"Jealous? Of *Riley*?" Angelus ridiculed. Oh, if Buffy only knew. 

She ignored his protest, hearing only what she wanted to hear. "I know you're upset about our date and I'm sorry. It's just...well, you know how it is. You wanted me to move on. Anyway, you don't have to be alone tonight. I'm sure Xander and Willow would be happy to spend time with you. I could call them and--" 

Shit! "No, don't!" Angelus snapped, then added in a more subdued tone, "It's okay, I'll be fine on my own. There are a few things I want to do, like call Cordelia and give her an update." 

"If you're sure..." Buffy looked uncertain. 

"Oh, I'm sure." Being shadowed by the concerned witch and the morose boy would cap off his day perfectly. 

"All right, then. I'd better go change. Riley will be here soon." Buffy retreated upstairs with the rescued flowers. 

Angelus glared at the lone rose in his hand and plucked off the remaining petals, ending with, "She loves him not." He felt only marginally better. 

In actuality, he had no plans for that evening, and absolutely no intention of contacting Cordelia. He couldn't stand the airhead and knew she would only annoy him with boring topics of interest only to her. He'd "accidentally" left his cell phone in Los Angeles just so she'd have a harder time getting in touch with him if she tried. Of course, if she really wanted to find him he knew she would just call Buffy, but so far luck had been on his side. 

He paced nervously, watching as Buffy came downstairs all dressed up, as Riley arrived, as the two departed. The only plus was that Buffy looked torn. He was sure she'd have a horrible time. 

Finally, Angelus thought of something to do that might settle him down a bit. He'd slept through that afternoon's installment of "Passions," but it didn't matter. Buffy was still taping the show for her mother. He sprawled on the couch, flicked the TV on, and hit rewind on the VCR control to move back to the beginning of the episode. He had to try to pick up more sappy dialogue to use on Buffy. She'd practically eaten it up with a spoon the other day before her conscience had gotten to her. 

Angelus tried to focus, but despite his best attempts the show simply couldn't hold his attention. He was going stir crazy, much like he had often felt while trapped inside Angel's body. Maybe the problem was that he was hungry. Unfortunately, he had nothing to drink except the inferior pig's blood Buffy had bought for him. Nevertheless, Angelus decided to suck it up and try some of the stuff. 

He snapped off the TV and went into the kitchen. Just as Buffy had reported, three bags of blood held a prominent position inside the refrigerator. Stifling a grimace, Angelus yanked out the foremost one and dumped a portion into a white mug (hoping it would stain), shoved the cup into the microwave, and heated it. Cold, the slop would be unbearable. Boiling, it might be tolerable. 

When he judged it was near body temperature, Angelus pulled out the mug, braced himself, and took a huge gulp, which turned out to be a mistake since the pig's blood tasted even shittier than he had remembered. Always before, the taste had been filtered through Angel, and he wasn't prepared for the sheer foulness of it. Angelus gagged and spat the blood out, all over the Slayer's mother's kitchen floor. 

The Scourge of Europe spent the next 10 minutes on his hands and knees, cleaning up the disgusting mess. It was what Angel would have done, and Angelus grimly tallied up yet another white mark against his better half. 

When he judged he'd done a fairly thorough job, he dumped his sodden rag into the wastebasket and made new plans. Enough was enough. He was going to break his self-imposed rule of not hunting in Sunnydale. He absolutely could not stomach animal blood and he was sick of acting Angel-like, especially when no one was around to give him credit. Even a mighty demon like him had his limits. It was way past time to go out and get someone to eat. 

Angelus paused on his way out the door. Was he forgetting anything? Well, he estimated he'd be back before Buffy, so he didn't need to leave a note. Besides, what would he say? "Went out to commit murder, back by 10"? No, he was all set. He had himself. 

He slipped outside and slithered downtown to scour the streets of Sunnydale. He wanted to find a young, innocent-looking victim whose blood would taste luxurious to his long-denied senses. Rebecca Lowell hadn't qualified. She hadn't been innocent, and he hadn't made the kill himself. He could do so much better than her. 

Angelus made his way to the Bronze and positioned himself across the street from the building. As he lurked, groups of chattering people filtered in and out, but no one particularly caught his eye. Anyway, he had to be wary. He couldn't attack a group because some members would likely escape and possibly be able to identify him. Yet he couldn't attack an individual because so far he hadn't seen any. 

Finally, Angelus drifted away in search of less populated areas. After several minutes of careful searching, he located a suitable target: a boy of about 12 who hurried alone along the streets, presumably anxious to get home. Angelus circled in behind him and was pleased when the boy soon turned and darted down an alley, apparently using it as a shortcut. 

Angelus trailed him inside, quickening his trot and allowing his demon face to loom forth. Just a few more steps until they would be far enough from the main street for him to safely attack...A loud rattling sounded to his left, and Angelus swore as the startled boy broke into a run and dashed out the far end of the alley. Snarling, Angelus whirled to confront the intruder who had scared away his take-out. 

Another vampire, also in game face, growled at him before starting in recognition. "Hey, you're Angel, right? What are you doing back in these parts? Have you returned to the dark side, feeding off of humans?" 

It was a remarkably accurate guess, but Angelus couldn't afford to let that news make the rounds. "Of course I'm not evil," he lied. "I have a soul, remember? I was merely making sure that boy got home safely. And it's a good thing I escorted him, or I'm afraid you would most unwisely have tried to make a meal of him. Now, I suggest you haul ass before I stop being generous and end your miserable unlife." 

The other vampire scrambled away with gratifying haste, giving Angelus a welcome ego boost until he reminded himself that it hadn't been much of a vampire. 

Frustrated and annoyed, he gave up on trying to find a suitable meal in town and drifted toward the cemeteries. With some luck, a human fool or two would have wandered that way and he could feast in privacy. 

Angelus had scarcely set foot in Farside Park when he spotted a young adult male sitting at a picnic table, seemingly oblivious to the world around him. It was like an answer to his curses. He stalked forward, approaching striking range, when suddenly a searing pain struck him in the back. He fell to the ground, quivering beneath the onslaught. He felt like he was being electrocuted. Within seconds, the world around him went black. 

*** 

When Angelus again became aware of his surroundings, he was lying flat on his back with a brilliant white light shining into his eyes. He couldn't move, and his head hurt. Not just "bumped-on-a-coffin-lid" hurt, or even "hit-by-an-andiron" hurt, but "a-knife-was-slicing-into-his-brain" hurt. 

Voices drifted in and out around him in a whirlwind of noise. The most coherent one said, "He has the stamina of an ox. Put him under again." 

Angelus felt another sharp pain and then nothing. 

The next he knew, he was still lying on his back, staring up at a light. It wasn't as bright as the last one, though, and he was alone, in a different room. Also, his head merely ached instead of burning with agony. 

Angelus tried to move and was relieved to find that he could once more. He gingerly rolled onto his side, testing his limbs for any noticeable damage. He was in decent shape, he decided. Good enough, at least, to dismantle whatever had attacked him. 

He wondered what exactly had been done to his head, and performed a brief mental test to make sure he was still himself. He remembered each of the seven deadly sins, he despised Xander and Cordelia, and he was pissed that Angel had killed Darla. Therefore, they couldn't have screwed him up too badly yet, but that probably meant they would return and try to finish the job. But this time, he would be prepared. He only had to figure out where he was, how to escape, who had brought him there, and how to most painfully kill them. Evisceration had quickly become his new favorite word. 

*** 

Three hours later, it still was. Throughout that time, Angelus had paced and studied the walls, the floor, even the ceiling, of his windowless, cell-like, 10x10 prison. He had found no way out. The heavy metal door didn't even have a knob, just a fingerprint scanner mounted to the side. Naturally, his fingerprints didn't pass muster. 

Angelus assumed that the Initiative had captured him. Mere days earlier, he had shrugged off Buffy's brief mention of the group, believing if Finn was involved it had to be a minor-league operation. He couldn't believe he had been tricked so easily, especially by a program that employed Riley. It was downright humiliating. 

He was still berating himself for his carelessness when the door to his prison began to hiss open. Angelus readied himself to attack, then hesitated when he identified his visitor. It was Riley. Now, Angelus hated Riley more than he hated all the Slayerettes put together, and that was a lot. But he also knew he could probably worm information out of Finn. And surely he could snap the boy's neck like a twig whenever he so chose. 

Riley held a finger to his lips. "Be quiet and don't ask any questions. Just come with me. I'll explain things once we're out of here." 

He turned and slunk away. Instead of blindly obeying, Angelus weighed his options. He remembered only too well what had happened to him the last time he had failed to think ahead. If he went with Riley, then he stood a chance of escape. True, Finn might be trying to trick him, but since Angelus was already caught there seemed little point to such a ruse. If he stayed where he was, the Initiative people would eventually come back for him. It seemed best to escape and then form a plan to take them down. After all, he was only one vampire--an incredible vampire, it was true, but still only one. Even he couldn't take down the entire project alone, especially without preparation. 

So he trailed Riley out of his prison and along a long corridor lined with closed doors. At the end, Finn turned left and squeezed through a narrow opening in the wall. Angelus sucked in his stomach and followed, to find that they were in a sewer. So, the facility was underground, which was actually an excellent choice. 

Wordlessly, Riley led the way along a long, convoluted path through the sewers, tracking and backtracking through numerous tunnels. Eventually he climbed up a ladder, pushed open a manhole, and emerged onto a shadowy, deserted street. Angelus followed and judged it was around 11pm. Or, time to get some answers. 


	9. Revelations

Chapter 9/9: Revelations 

Riley was looking at him but not offering any information. It was up to Angelus and his superior wiles to squeeze it out of him. As a test question, although he was already fairly certain of the answer, he asked, "What was that place?" 

"The Initiative's complex," Riley answered readily enough. "Buffy said she mentioned it to you." 

Angelus nodded. Finn was willing to share some details, which was good. "How long was I there?" 

"A night and a day. I just found out a couple hours ago. Buffy was worried when you were nowhere to be found and I thought you might have gone out and been captured. Sure enough, I was right. I managed to convince the others to let you go. They only agreed because they trust my judgement, and because they know you can't hurt any humans." 

Inwardly, Angelus sneered. Farm Boy thought he was talking to Angel. And it was true that Angel typically wouldn't harm humans. But Angelus was an entirely different animal. He was set to go on a killing spree that would make the infamous Bloodbath of Vienna look like a tea party. He was tempted to start with Riley. Most creatures weren't worth the blood they took up, and Finn was definitely one of them. Plus, aside from being a convenient target, he was just plain fucking annoying, with his smug smile and those beady eyes and that condescending attitude. 

Riley scowled. "Look. We might as well get our feelings out in the open. You don't like me, I don't like you. I'm only helping out because I know Buffy would be upset if anything happened to you. I'm doing this for her sake, not yours." 

He must have made his feelings just a little too obvious, Angelus decided. Well, he was willing to forget about waiting to kill the boy. He could just get the Initiative information through other means. He sprang at Finn, but fell to the street with a howl of pain as his head shot bursts of agony through him. Riley hadn't so much as touched him, nor had anyone else. Obviously, something malicious had been done to him during that mysterious operation back in the white room. 

Riley smirked down at him. "You weren't trying to hurt me, were you, Angel? Oh, wait, did I forget to tell you? You *can't*." He chuckled loudly. 

"What the fuck did they do to me in there? I was fine before I went in." 

"Medical experiment. It's performed on all hostiles." 

"What...the fuck...did they do to me?" Angelus repeated in a low growl from his ignominious position on the ground. 

"I *told* you. It was a medical experiment. They implant the hostiles with a chip that prevents them from harming humans. Makes your kind a heck of a lot easier to handle, let me tell you." 

"They can't do this to me. Take it out. Make them deactivate it," Angelus demanded. 

"Why are you looking at me? I can't do anything. Wouldn't, even if I could, because I just plain don't want to." 

Angelus longingly glanced back at the manhole cover. 

Riley shook his head. "You go back in there, you're never getting out. They'll just experiment on you till they end up killing you and then they'll move on to the next vampire. They don't want to help demons. By the way, don't bother to go crying to Buffy. She might feel sorry for you, but in the end she'll pick me. Because who has never left her? Who can give her children? Who does her mother like? Who does she have a future with? I'll give you a hint: It's not you." 

Angelus snarled futilely. The boy was taunting him, a master vampire, and getting away with it. Time was, Angelus would have had him for dessert and picked his teeth with the bones. 

"Now come on," Riley urged. "I'm going to get you home like I promised Buffy." 

Reluctantly, Angelus heaved himself to his feet. He didn't know what else he *could* do at the moment except go back to Buffy's place. He knew Finn was only helping him so as to score brownie points with the Slayer. The sad thing was, it would probably work. Farm Boy was a hell of a lot smarter than he had ever dreamed. He was going to play hero for Buffy and take the credit. It was a cunning maneuver, but since it came at Angelus' expense he couldn't bring himself to admire it too highly. It was the sort of thing he had routinely done to others, and it wasn't nearly as much fun when he was the victim rather than the perpetrator. 

But he wouldn't give Finn the satisfaction of uttering a word of complaint. Anyway, his confidence was already trickling back. He was down, but not out. Didn't he always rebound, stronger than before? This time would be no different. He'd think up a way around this momentary setback soon enough. 

*** 

The long walk back to Buffy's house passed in silence, though Riley was clearly gloating. He led Angelus on a shortcut across the yard to the kitchen door and called, "Buffy! We're back!" 

Within seconds, the Slayer ran into the room. "Angel, are you all right? Where have you been? I've been so worried about you ever since this morning, when I figured out you were missing. I thought you were just sleeping until I knocked on your door and you didn't answer." 

"I saved him, Buffy," Riley announced. "You were right--the Initiative had him, but I convinced them to let him go. He's fine, as you can see." 

If Riley had patted himself on the back any harder, he'd have pulled some muscles, Angelus sourly mused. He simply couldn't allow the other man to continue to hog the sympathy and praise. Angelus groaned and swayed dramatically, clutching a hand to his head. 

Buffy jumped to support him. "What's wrong, Angel?" She whirled on Riley. "I thought you said he was all right!" 

"He is..." Riley stumbled. "I mean, he was. They didn't do too much to him, just put a chip in his brain, that's all. It only keeps him from hurting humans. Nothing else, I swear." 

When Buffy spoke next, it was in a deceptively gentle tone. "Angel, let's get you upstairs so you can lie down, okay? Riley, wait here, please." 

All of a sudden, Riley didn't look so confident. Angelus swallowed a grin. He might not be able to tear Finn's head off and stuff it up his ass, but it sounded like Buffy might be willing to do it for him. Maybe he'd underestimated her, too, just a bit. 

As Buffy steered him toward Joyce's room, he deliberately leaned on her for support. She murmured soothingly as she guided him inside and propped him against the wall. While Buffy pulled back the covers and rearranged his pillow, Angelus removed his shoes and tossed his jacket over the back of a chair. "Lie down, Angel," Buffy ordered. He obeyed, and she continued, "You take a nap and you'll be feeling better in no time, all right?" 

Angelus nodded and dutifully closed his eyes. Buffy wouldn't have a clue whether he was really asleep, and he had no intention of actually drifting off. He wanted to hear what she had to say to Farm Boy. He listened as Buffy hovered in the hall for a few minutes before she quietly shut the door and tiptoed away to the kitchen. 

Once there, she didn't waste any time in confronting Finn in a low but firm voice. "Riley, you'd better explain things to me, and they'd better make more sense than they have so far. Now, you said the Initiative put something in Angel's brain." 

"Yeah, but it's hardly like he was singled out. It's routine procedure to implant all hostiles with a device that will prevent them from harming humans. Do you know how many lives we're saving?" 

"Riley, we're talking about *Angel*. It's ridiculous to even think about treating him like any other vampire. What you're describing is like using a choke collar on a Chihuahua." 

Angelus grinned to himself. Not that he appreciated being compared to a microscopic lapdog, but if it got Riley out of Buffy's life he'd somehow manage to survive the indignity. 

Finn protested, "Well, what difference will it make in his life if he's telling the truth and he really doesn't use people as his own personal blood banks?" 

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe if he found himself unable to intervene if he ran into a human committing a murder, or a robbery, or a rape? Those possibilities do kind of leap into one's mind." 

"Hey, don't blame me," Riley snapped. "I had nothing to do with it. In fact, you're lucky I was around to bail old Angel out. And I didn't want to tell you this, but since you're being so stubborn, I will. At the time he was captured, your oh-so-wonderful Angel was about to attack a human decoy we set out to trap vampires." 

After a brief pause, Buffy said staunchly, "I don't believe it. I'm sure Angel was only going to warn him that it was dangerous to be alone outside at night." 

Riley uttered a bark of laughter. "Oh, come on. Once a vampire, always a vampire. I have proof. I have witnesses. Why won't you believe me? You're in danger from this creep. Or you were before the chip, anyway." 

"They'll just have to remove it, won't they?" Buffy countered. 

"That's impossible. There's no way to remove or disable the chip without causing severe brain damage or possibly even death. The Initiative doctors planned it out very carefully for just such a possibility." 

After several seconds of silence, during which Angelus' imagination provided several vivid images of Riley in various states of disarray, Buffy spoke again. "You know, I never really liked the idea of the Initiative before, and you're making me like it even less now by the second. I want you to leave, and this time don't bother coming back with candy and flowers." 

There followed the sounds of Riley huffing out an exasperated breath and retreating, then of footsteps moving along the hallway and the bedroom door opening. 

Buffy stepped inside the room and sat on the bed beside Angelus. He stirred and pretended to awaken, curious to hear what she would say about her conversation with Riley. "Buffy?" 

"Oh, Angel, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up," Buffy apologized as she shifted away. 

Angelus grabbed her hand. "No, stay. I'm not really tired anyway." He softly rubbed her fingers in an effort to get her to relax and open up to him. "So, you seem a little upset. Anything wrong?" 

Buffy sighed. "Yeah, there is. I just broke up with Riley. We had what I guess you'd call irreconcilable differences." 

"Oh, really?" It took an effort, but Angelus carefully modulated his voice to false-sympathetic mode. 

"Yeah. I thought he'd be a 'regular' boyfriend, the kind everyone was always telling me I should have. And then he turned out to be this super-soldier commando guy who runs around making decisions that can ruin other people's lives. And he didn't even act sorry about it. I think I was in love with the idea of having a normal life, or at least a normal boyfriend. Guess I should have expected something like this to happen. We're talking about *me*, after all." 

"You'll get through it. You always do, right?" 

"I knew I could count on you to make me feel better." 

Buffy absently stroked his hair as she spoke, and Angelus had to admit to himself that it felt kind of good. Was it possible he was softening toward the Slayer, even a little? Nah, he scoffed. It wasn't true. He was just playing up to her to keep her firmly in his camp. He had a feeling her help would come in handy when he sought his revenge against Riley and the Initiative. 

END   
  
***  
  
  
Now, I'm sure some of you are protesting that what happened to Angelus in this story is the same as what happened to Spike on the show. True, but I do plan a sequel, and in it Angelus will react in a very different way than Spike did. He's going to get revenge. And the chip will not stay in his head forever. Also, some chapters of the sequel will be from Buffy's point of view as well as Angelus', so you can get some insight into what she's thinking. It will be a form of B/Aus, but Angelus will NOT sappily fall in love with Buffy and change his evil ways. 

I've begun to post the sequel here. It starts in the next chapter. 


	10. Demon Revenge, Ch 1

  
TITLE: Demon Revenge   
AUTHOR: Kelso  
RATING: R  
SPOILERS: "Eternity" (for "Angel"); and any of "Buffy" through "Who Are You?" is fair game, particularly season 4 episodes.  
FEEDBACK: send to kelso28@excite.com  
SUMMARY: Sequel to "Demon Bait." Angelus is still in Sunnydale pretending to be Angel. This time, he works on reestablishing a romantic relationship with Buffy and bringing down the Initiative.  
DISTRIBUTION: wait until it's done, then anywhere is fine but take the version posted at my site (link below)  
WEBSITE:   
DISCLAIMER: "Buffy" and "Angel" characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.   
NOTES: Set in season 4. Picks up about a week after "Demon Bait" left off. Summary of that story: Angelus reemerged and went to Sunnydale, pretending to be Angel. He planned to inflict mental torture on the gang before killing them. He was able to cause trouble between Buffy and Riley, but then the Initiative captured him and implanted a chip in his brain that prevents him from harming humans.   
--Spike didn't return to Sunnydale in S4, so he is unchipped. Buffy dated Riley, but never had sex with him. However, Buffy and Willow are still attending UC Sunnydale, Xander is not, Oz left town, and the Tara/Willow and Xander/Anya relationships developed as seen on the show.   
--Thanks to Sky and SpikeFan for beta reading large chunks of this one.   
  
**************  
  
Demon Revenge 

A loud clumping awoke Angelus from his sound sleep. He knew without any checking at all that the intrusive noise was caused by Buffy, returning like a fly to be caught in a spiderweb. Ever since his return to the old Crawford Street mansion, she had found multiple transparent excuses to visit him. It was best to play hard to get; let her come to him, so she would have to suffer with that knowledge in the long run. 

He listened as Buffy continued to stomp throughout the house, opening and slamming doors in her search for him. "Angel?" she called. "Angel, where are you?" 

He had waited long enough. He had to go out and talk to Buffy while acting like nothing was wrong and he was still that boring sap, Angel. Angelus growled unproductively at the very thought of having to imitate that idiot, then clutched his head in pain. Frankly, he'd almost entirely given up growling lately. He usually got a headache when he tried it, all due to that damned Initiative chip. Almost anything fun gave him a headache--even the mere thought of killing or just maiming someone. What had the world come to? 

Getting back to business, Angelus rolled off the bed and onto his feet, then threw on the clothes he had lying ready. He had insisted on moving into the mansion several days ago, knowing Joyce was due to come home soon from her business trip and not looking forward one little bit to the thought of seeing the busybody twit again. Buffy had been forced to agree with his decision, aware her mother would be less than pleased at the thought that "Angel" had been staying with Buffy at the house in her absence. As for the question of where he should move? The mansion was empty, it was close, it was reasonably vampire-friendly, and in short, it was the logical solution. 

Angelus finished getting ready and slipped into the hall. His nemesis had progressed to only a few doors away, and was frowning as she turned from yet another empty room. "Buffy." Angelus grimaced as he greeted her. Fortunately, Angel's smiles usually felt more like grimaces anyway so he doubted Buffy could tell the difference. 

"Angel," she responded in a quivering voice, then ran down the hall and wrapped her arms around him. 

"Hard day at school?" he asked as she clung to him. Not that he really cared if she'd had a bad day, of course, except to the extent that he could capitalize on it. 

Buffy nodded against his shoulder. "Yeah, my hand wasn't even raised and Professor Burns called on me in lit and embarrassed me in front of the whole class when I didn't know the answer. Then I forgot we had a test in economics today. Instant F." 

"Isn't that too bad." Angelus began to stroke her hair in long, even motions. "Well, maybe I can come up with something that'll make you feel better." 

Buffy lifted her head, tears shining in her eyes. "Yeah? What?" 

Angelus didn't reply verbally. Instead, he leaned down and gently touched his lips to Buffy's. He was remarkably restrained; he didn't even try to use any tongue until he felt her start to respond. One of the few pleasures left in Angelus' bland post-chip life was inflicting mental torment on his victims. His primary goal was to seduce and then dump Buffy, but he hadn't been able to make much progress thus far. Today, though, might be his day. Buffy was feeling vulnerable, and he was just the demon to take advantage of that weakness. 

She was practically melting in his arms, leaning into him and sucking face with great enthusiasm. Maybe he ought to make sure she got F's more often.... Slowly, Angelus shifted backward, toward his abandoned room. If he could maneuver Buffy inside, he stood a good chance of being able to lure her into bed before she registered what was going on. He kept hold of Buffy with his right hand while he reached behind himself with his left to feel for the doorknob. He had grasped it and was about to twist it when Buffy pried her mouth away from his, almost taking his tongue with it. "No, Angel, we can't do this." 

She backed away from him, and Angelus did his best to hide his sharp rush of annoyance. Buffy sounded like a broken record. Every time he put the moves on her, she trotted out the same old excuse. Well, he would have to persuade her to see things his way. It shouldn't be too hard to convince her he was miserable when it wouldn't even be a lie. 

He braced himself and launched into his usual speech, though even *he* was tired of hearing it. "Let me explain again why we can have sex. Now, it's obvious I can never be perfectly happy like this, Buffy. We both know about the curse, and the thought of it will never completely leave our minds. Besides that, my ability to aid the imperiled has been compromised." He rephrased when he saw Buffy wrinkle her brow in obvious confusion. "It's harder for me to help the helpless. As long as this chip is in my head, I'll have to exist with that depressing knowledge." 

Buffy crossed her arms and looked down, biting her lip. "Let me think about it, okay? This subject is too serious for us to jump into anything. Don't you agree?" 

Damn. One would think she was still a virgin. Not meaning a second of it, Angelus solemnly nodded. He would overcome Buffy's scruples, no matter what he had to do. 

*** 

After Buffy left to go study for a test with Willow, Angelus tried his best to get back to sleep but found himself unable to. Without consciously trying, Buffy was doing a thorough job of ruining his routine. So instead of getting more rest, he decided to do the next best thing. Naturally, that thing was no longer torturing, or destroying, or slaughtering, or feeding, because he could no longer indulge in any of those beloved activities; no, it was remembering the past. 

Oh, for the bad old days, when he'd wiped out an entire village in one night. Those were the times, all right. 

Angelus drifted into a nostalgic haze, daydreaming about his finest ambushes and goriest kills. He'd been pretty impressive back then. He should look into writing a book about his adventures.... Wait a minute! What was he thinking? Write a *book*? He was one of the most fearsome demons ever to roam the world. Fearsome demons raped and pillaged and murdered. They didn't lie around thinking about what to title their autobiographies. 

He had certainly sunk low. Angelus was actually ashamed of himself. Instead of reveling in the admittedly glorious past, he should be out wreaking havoc in the present. Having that chip in his head was no excuse. He needed to take steps toward getting his bite back, that very night. 

Determined to change his fate, Angelus impatiently waited until dusk fell. The second it was safe to set foot outside, he was on his way to infiltrate the underground Initiative complex. It took him mere minutes to reach the sewers where Riley had led him out. Despite Finn's feeble attempt at trickery by guiding him along a circuitous path, Angelus recalled the route perfectly. In fact, he was able to significantly shorten it. Riley had taken about five times as much travel time as necessary, all in a vain attempt to confuse Angelus. 

Following his shortcut, Angelus soon found himself at his destination. He squeezed into the complex, senses on high alert for the presence of humans. His plan was to lure a single doctor outside with him, then somehow trick that doctor into revealing how to remove the chip. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to use physical force on that individual. But Angelus had often before relied on his superior brain power to win the day, so he didn't think lack of brawn would present any sort of problem. 

He cautiously crept along the hallway, keeping to the shadows. Ahead, he heard the heartbeats of five people. Way too many for him to confront in his present condition. He backtracked several yards and proceeded down a corridor to the left. This way, he felt only one heartbeat, several doors down. He slunk to the doorway of the room in question and paused outside, listening. 

The occupant was indeed alone. The door was open the merest crack, so Angelus took advantage and peered inside. He saw a long, wooden table with one chair. In that chair sat a man with graying hair who wore a white coat and a nametag. It seemed he was in luck, and had already found a doctor. 

Quietly, Angelus slipped inside the room and shut the door behind him. The doctor jumped and looked up, dropping the clipboard he had been writing on. He clutched a hand to his chest and exclaimed, "Oh! You startled me." 

Angelus eyed the man's nametag. "Hello, Dr. Hamilton." 

"Hello." The doctor looked at him strangely. 

Angelus thought quickly. On his way over, he had made up what he thought was a plausible cover story, which he now rolled out to allay the other man's obvious suspicions. "I need you to come with me. We've captured another hostile in the park and you have to go there to treat him." 

The doctor shook his head and began to laugh, long and hard. "You expect me to believe that story? Everyone here knows who you are. You're the hostile Agent Finn freed. He warned us you might come back and attempt to frighten us into giving you medical data. Fortunately, we are all prepared. We know you can't harm us in any way." 

It was like a nightmare, which would have been fine except it wasn't a nightmare of Angelus' creation. He was being *laughed* at, by a pitiful creature he might not even have deigned to eat as recently as a week and a half ago. He vamped out and snarled fiercely at the doctor, but was quickly punished by the familiar shooting pain in his head. 

"We do good work here," he heard the other man smugly note. "Now, I'm calling security. Do stay around so we can experiment some more on you." 

That warning was enough to send Angelus fleeing back to the relative safety of the sewers, where he could do little but muse on the indignities to which he was subjected and try to come up with a new approach. 

*** 

"Um...1861," Buffy wildly guessed in answer to Willow's Civil War history question. 

"No, 1865," her friend corrected. "Next. What was the first state to secede?" 

"Louisiana?" Buffy suggested. 

"Wrong again." Willow set her book aside. "Look, something's obviously distracting you. You knew most of these answers yesterday. So, what's wrong?" 

Buffy fiddled with her pencil and then decided to just plunge into the subject. "Willow, what would you think if I told you Angel wanted us to have sex again?" 

"*What*?" Willow screamed. Then she blinked and went on in her usual quiet tone. "I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you right. Could you repeat that?" 

"Okay, let me explain first," Buffy backtracked. "See, Angel still loves me, obviously I still love him, and with him being around it's tough on both of us. There's so much temptation, you know? So he brought up the subject and said there won't be any danger now that he knows about the curse plus he's got the chip in his head. Two big checks in the not-happy column. I kind of understand what he's saying but on the other hand, I really, *really* don't like the thought of Angelus possibly coming back. So, what do you think?" 

Willow sighed. "Angel raises some good points, then so do you. All I know is, it's definitely not something I should be deciding. Have you thought about talking to Giles?" 

Buffy laughed. "Go to Giles for advice on my sex life? I don't think so." 

"I get your point." Willow paused. "So, what are you going to do?" 

Buffy furrowed her brow. "Maybe I'm making this all way too complicated when it boils down to one simple issue." 

"Yeah?" Willow prompted. 

For long seconds, Buffy remained silent. Then she declared, "I've made up my mind. Now, all I have to do is go to Angel and tell him what I've decided." 

*** 

It was a good thing for the human population of Sunnydale that Angelus was unable to harm them, because he was in possibly the worst mood he had *ever* been in. He'd been humbled by the Initiative doctor, forced to hide from puny soldiers for two hours in a stinking sewer tunnel, and finally dragged himself back to the mansion, pissed off, bored, and starving. The only one of those conditions he could improve was the last one. 

Angelus stalked to the kitchen, threw open the refrigerator door, and scowled as he eyed the container of pig's blood sitting alone on the top shelf. Even the lowliest of fledglings didn't make a regular diet of animal blood. In fact, most vampires had never so much as tasted it. Most never needed to. Angelus was one of the rare unfortunate creatures who did. He didn't like the feeling one bit. 

Unwillingly, he reached for the container. Then he stopped. He wasn't going to do it. No more of that slop for *him*, he decided. He was going to get himself the luscious human blood he deserved. The only question was how. Angelus thought for a moment. Buying the good stuff from Willy or any other supplier was out of the question, since Buffy was bound to find out and wonder what was going on. However, if he worked at it, he was sure he could figure out a solution. Much as it sickened him, Angelus called to mind some of the goody-goody actions of Angel and soon came up with an epiphany. The local hospital received a periodic blood delivery. Back in his Sunnydale days, Angel had helped Buffy protect the supply from other vampires. Well, Angelus planned to help, too--help himself *to* the blood. 

He consulted the Halloween-themed calendar hanging on the refrigerator door and nodded. If he recalled his dates correctly, the hospital blood delivery should arrive the very next night. Angelus had every intention of being there to meet it. 

*** 

Promptly at 8 p.m., Angelus strode through the front door of Sunnydale Hospital. He absolutely loved public buildings--no invitation required. Not that he'd ever spent much time in hospitals. He preferred to feed on healthy humans, not those wasting away from some nasty disease or other. No, he was only at this hospital out of desperation. To intercept the blood delivery without a fight, Angelus had to look like a hospital employee. He needed to steal one of those ugly white lab coats. 

He skulked down a few random corridors until he found an employee break room. Inside lay an unguarded coat. 

At 8:10 p.m., Angelus, coat and all, was waiting impatiently in a dark, cozy spot outside the emergency room entrance. If the schedule was the same as he remembered, the delivery was supposed to arrive at a little after 8:30 p.m. He also recalled, however, that sometimes it came somewhat earlier or later. In this case, he was hoping for earlier. He could almost taste that blood already. 

While he waited, Angelus' thoughts shifted to Buffy. She hadn't shown up at the mansion all day, which was unusual and also made him wonder. Angelus did not like being left in the dark. If Buffy avoided him the next day, as well, he would have to seek her out. Maybe he had pressed her too hard and scared her away. Being good, or pretending to be, anyway, was certainly hard work. 

Angelus sighed in annoyance, then straightened to attention. He heard the noise of a vehicle approaching. It sounded much heavier than a car, so chances were it was the blood-delivery van. He glanced over his shoulder. The employees who were supposed to collect the delivery hadn't put in an appearance yet. Perfect. 

As the van rolled into its parking space, Angelus stepped forward, ready to collect his loot. The driver and his passenger hopped out and went around to the back of the vehicle to unload the supplies. Angelus followed, determined to sign for the blood and then make a swift escape. 

The driver glanced at him. "You here to collect the stuff?" 

Just as Angelus was about to utter an emphatic "Yes," the most unwelcome voice in the world sounded behind him. 

"Angel, what are you doing here?" 

Dammit, it was Buffy. Just when you didn't want her around, she popped up. Angelus had been hoping against hope that she had either forgotten about the hospital delivery, or stopped guarding it, or was too busy to show up, but no. He couldn't be that lucky, could he? With a feeling of doomed resignation, he turned to face her. 

"Hi, Buffy." 

"I think we covered that already." She stared at him. "I asked what you're doing here." 

"Um, same thing you are?" Angelus lied. 

Buffy smiled. "I knew there was a logical explanation. But why are you wearing that coat?" 

Time for another lie. "To trick any lurking demons into thinking I was a harmless hospital employee." He whipped off the lab coat and tried to look innocent. 

"Good idea. Why don't we make sure the blood gets inside safely?" Buffy suggested. "Then we can talk." 

So Angelus was forced to watch his meal plan slip away, to be given to an unknown number of useless humans who would never appreciate it like he did. It was all Buffy's fault, too. If only she'd stayed at home, or gone patrolling in one of the cemeteries, or something, *anything*, else. He cast one last, longing look at the swinging hospital doors before he turned back to the person responsible for his poor diet. 

"I bet you were wondering why I didn't come to your place today," Buffy began, eyes downcast. "That's because I've reached a decision about the future of our relationship, Angel." She finally looked at him, briefly, before she went back to studying the ground. "I can't see you anymore. At all. In fact, I think it's probably best if you go back to Los Angeles. If I figure out a way to help you get rid of the chip, I can call you. It isn't like you'll be all that far away. You can come back the same day if anything big happens. If you stay here, the temptation is too much and the risk is too great. It wouldn't be fair to give in to our feelings when we might be putting other people in jeopardy. I know you'll understand so I'm going to leave now and not drag this out, okay?" 

Angelus stared in horror as Buffy turned on her heel and strode off without a backward glance. He couldn't stop her. He couldn't bite her. He couldn't even try to shake some sense into her. Sure, she was a pain in the ass most of the time. But he had to be given a fair chance to get back at her for the hell she'd put him through. He'd never even considered the possibility that she would dump him--Angel, whoever. As if he didn't have enough problems already, now he had to try to win Buffy back just so he could reject her again. 

*** 

It took less than a day for Angelus to grow restless. He wanted to accelerate the timetable of his recovery, and it looked like Buffy wouldn't be as much help as he had hoped. Never one to rely on others to do his dirty work, Angelus thus considered his options and came up with a new plan. He needed information, he wanted it now, and the best way to get it was from other demons. That meant he had to pay a visit to Willy's Bar. Accordingly, Angelus set out for the place at dusk that night. 

The establishment was just as much of a dive as he remembered. Angelus curled his lip in distaste but entered nonetheless. Within seconds, a pair of drunken Pindar demons in the booth nearest the door looked up, saw him, and sneered. 

Angelus had to force himself not to go over and wrench their heads off of their puny necks, but the last thing he needed was for Buffy to hear rumors of how he'd become entangled in a common barroom brawl. Of course, time was he could have ruled this place with one well placed glance. But these demons didn't know who he was. The lack of respect they displayed toward "Angel" was appalling. Any vampire with the slightest hint of self-respect would be setting them straight in a very gory way right about now. Only, as Angelus sadly reminded himself, Angel had no self-respect. 

He bypassed the rude Pindars and went up to the bar. Though the place was packed with at least a dozen varieties of demon, it contained just one human: the proprietor, a scrawny, trembling, born loser named Willy, who was Angelus' first target. "Willy," he greeted him. "Just the man I was looking for." 

"Which would make sense considering that this is my bar," Willy unwisely replied. 

He promptly shrank back as Angelus glared. *He* was the only one allowed to make smart-ass remarks in this place. Then, however, Angelus remembered that he was supposed to be Angel, and Angel, the humorless, stoic fool, either wouldn't know or wouldn't care that Willy had cracked a joke at his expense. 

Reluctantly backing off, he reached up and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry. Something got caught in here." 

Willy relaxed, and Angelus stifled a sigh. Even in absentia, the soul continued to cramp his style. Yet all wasn't lost. Although he couldn't be his usual vicious self, he *could* apply a little pressure to Willy, because the only time Angel allowed himself to act assertive was when he was trying to help "save the world." Angelus could grill Willy about the Initiative and the moron wouldn't have a clue why he really wanted the information. Keeping this thought in mind, he regained his focus and faced his opponent. "I advise you to tell me the truth the first time I ask. What do you know about the Initiative?" 

"Nothing?" 

"Wrong answer." Angelus leaned closer, right in Willy's face. "I know you know something, so don't bother lying again unless you want to deal with both me and the Slayer. Now, I need to see anyone who was captured and experimented on by that organization." 

Willy caved and jerked his thumb toward the other end of the bar. "That Reaver's the closest you're going to get. Aren't many left around who'll admit it to it, but one of his friends went through that place." 

Angelus nodded curtly and strode down the bar to join the cannibalistic Reaver demon. This particular one, like all Reavers, was a very pale, very thin creature with a forked gray tongue and three elongated fingers on each hand. Angelus had dealt with Reavers in the past. They were pretty open and talkative, as demons went. He didn't anticipate having much trouble. He took the stool beside the Reaver and addressed his companion. "Willy said you might be able to help me out with a little matter. Has to do with an organization called the Initiative." 

The Reaver looked at him. "Maybe. Maybe." 

"Let me buy you a drink," Angelus offered. He gestured Willy over and waited for the Reaver to order. 

"I'll have cream of mutant brain." 

"Bloody Mary for me," Angelus ordered. It was the best drink in the place; Willy used real blood in each one. 

He waited until they were served and the Reaver flicked out its tongue to taste its drink. It was a very thick liquid that looked like it would congeal if left untouched for more than a minute or so. Angelus eyed it in revulsion as he downed his Bloody Mary. The things some creatures put in their mouths. 

The concoction, though, did the trick. After drinking about half, the Reaver withdrew its tongue and turned to him. "You want to talk about the Initiative? I have never seen the place myself, but my best friend ended up in there a few months back. They shocked him, stuck a chip in his head. He couldn't defend himself against humans. I had to save his hide so many times I was about to just eat him and be done with the trouble. Well, he didn't want that to happen so he came up with an idea to dispose of the chip." 

The Reaver paused to suck at its drink again. "What idea?" Angelus demanded. 

The other demon took its time finishing up before it turned to him again. "Keeping a short story short, he went to a witch doctor to have it removed. But things went horribly wrong. The extraction had barely begun when the chip exploded and blew my pal's brain into little mushy bits. Splat! All over the wall. Delicious." The Reaver smacked its lips. "Friends and family always taste the best, but I'm sure you know that." 

Angelus stared at his cannibalistic companion in dismay. He'd gotten the information he sought, but it wasn't good. It seemed the chip was expressly designed *not* to come out the easy way. 


	11. Demon Revenge 2: Darkest Before Dawn

With a sigh, Buffy pushed back the living-room curtain and peered out the window. Dusk had long since fallen, which meant Angel could come over to see her at any minute. Unless he'd already left town. Of course, it was entirely possible that he would never want to talk to her again, after the way she had shot him down last night. He'd wanted to resume their relationship, and she had been too scared to give it a try. Had she made the right decision? She had no idea. All she knew was that she felt perfectly miserable, and Angel most likely did, too. 

Buffy allowed the curtain to fall back into place and slumped down on the couch. Should she see if Angel was still at the mansion, or just leave things alone? She probably ought to hold firm. After all, she'd been able to move on with her life before, when Angel had left after graduation day. She could do it again. It would just take some time. The one thing she knew was that she definitely was not going to move on with Riley. He'd shown his true colors, and she didn't like them a bit. 

The click of the front door opening alerted Buffy to the fact that she was no longer alone. She jumped up, startled. Had Angel returned to see her? She turned toward the door, only to see another familiar face. "Mom, you're back! Duh, obviously. How was your trip?" 

"Fine, dear." Joyce stepped inside and dropped her carry-on bag on the floor. "Did everything go all right here while I was gone?" 

"Um, yeah, sure." Buffy wasn't about to mention Angel's return, or the fact that he'd stayed several days at the house. 

Joyce walked into the living room, peering about. "It *looks* all right." 

Buffy trailed her. "What, don't you trust me?" 

"Of course I do." Joyce stopped in her tracks. "Buffy, what happened to my fern?" 

Buffy thought quickly and decided to go with the honest approach. "It shouldn't be that bad yet. I only forgot to water it...um, about half the time." 

"That can't be." 

"Well, maybe it was more like 75% of the time." 

"Buffy, this plant is absolutely shining." Joyce indicated a healthy green frond. "I've never seen it look so good. To think I was afraid you would kill it from neglect while I was away." 

Buffy exhaled a long breath of relief. She didn't know what had caused the plant to thrive, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. "No problem, Mom. Anytime." 

"Thank you, Buffy. You did a nice job." Joyce hugged her daughter, but pulled back after only a few seconds to cover a yawn. "I guess I'm more tired than I thought. I'd better go upstairs and lie down." 

"All right." Buffy watched as her mother collected her bag and left the room. She looked out the window again. She really *had* been lost in thought before. She hadn't even heard the car pull up in the driveway. Buffy settled back on the sofa again, the better to brood over her problems. She had barely begun when Joyce stalked down the stairs. 

"Buffy, we need to have a talk. I want you to be honest with me. I found this in my room, and I want to know who it belongs to." From behind her back, Joyce produced a light blue man's shirt. 

Buffy stared at the offending item. She hadn't seen Angel wear it, but it had to be his. She'd allowed him to sleep in her mother's room during his stay. Although Buffy had checked over the room afterwards, she had obviously missed finding the shirt. Trust her eagle-eyed mother to spot it inside of 30 seconds. What could she say? Her mom hated Angel. Buffy couldn't tell her the truth. Swiftly, she lied, "It must be Riley's." 

Joyce slowly shook her head. "I'm very disappointed in you, Buffy." 

"We didn't do anything," Buffy protested. "And we definitely wouldn't do it in your room if we ever did, which we haven't and never will." 

"You're digging yourself in deeper and deeper, Buffy. I know this shirt isn't Riley's. Do you want to try again?" 

"Xander's?" Buffy said weakly. 

Joyce pursed her lips and turned the shirt around, revealing the name "Angel" stitched above the breast pocket. "Want to try to explain your way out of this one?" 

Buffy shrank back into the couch cushions. "Okay, Angel was here. You're right, I didn't want to tell you because I knew you wouldn't like it. He came to town to help me with Slayer business, that's all. I didn't like the thought of him staying in a hotel all alone so I told him he could sleep in your room. He was only here for a few days and he's gone now." 

"Back to Los Angeles?" Joyce asked. 

"Probably not yet," Buffy admitted. "He went back to the mansion to stay. But if he hasn't left town yet, he'll be going soon. We talked about it. This was just a pit stop for him. Honestly." 

Joyce frowned. "I certainly hope you're right, Buffy. I'm afraid his presence can only mean pain for you." 

*** 

Angelus wanted to cause pain to Buffy. Great physical and mental pain. Unfortunately, Buffy was unwittingly doing a better job on him than he was on her. She was in complete control of the situation, while he was spinning his wheels. 

He seemed to have lost his touch, and it just wasn't right. Could nothing work out for him? He was out of hair gel, he had ripped his favorite leather jacket, he was starving on his noxious new diet, and he had allowed a teenager--even if she *was* a Slayer--to defeat him. *_He_* was supposed to be driving *her* insane, not the other way around. He wasn't even 250, far too young to retire. He was near an all-time low. 

While he sat, unwontedly discouraged, Angelus heard the sounds of a large vehicle coming to a halt outside the mansion, but he couldn't make himself care. With his luck, it was a school bus jammed full with squalling children come to torture him while he was biteless. 

A single pair of footsteps approached the front door, and then retreated. The vehicle pulled away a moment later. 

Despite himself, Angelus had become curious. Who had come to his door and left so quickly? He slowly pushed himself out of his chair, crossed to the front door, and opened it. A large black truck was lumbering away down the street, and on his doorstep lay a small parcel. 

Curiosity definitely piqued now, Angelus picked up the package. It was postmarked Los Angeles and addressed to "Angel." He promptly shredded the packaging to reveal... Angel's cell phone, of all things. Not something useful, like a vial of human blood or a hair-care product or a dechipper, but a stupid cell phone. 

A slip of paper lay half under the phone. Angelus pulled it out and read: "You forgot this when you left L.A. Try to remember how to use it so we can get in touch with you if we need to--Cordelia." Angelus instantly resolved to keep the instrument turned off and buried in the back of a drawer except when absolutely necessary. He quickly suited thought to action and felt much better for it. 

Next he turned his mind to his current problems. Though some might seem minor, even progress in small steps would be encouraging. 

First things first. Angelus decided to take care of the hair problem right away. Though revolted, he choked down enough pig's blood to keep himself going for a little while. Then he set out for the nearest store, hoping he wouldn't encounter any of Buffy's pathetic friends along the way. If he had to see one more detestable person he couldn't kill, he...actually, he didn't know what he would do. He clearly couldn't do anything nasty and wickedly fun to them. 

At any rate, luck was with him, and he arrived at Walgreen's having met no one he knew. Inside, Angelus headed straight for the personal-care aisle. He ran his eyes up and down the rows, searching for the classiest products. Who bought the generic shit, anyway? Not that he intended to do any buying. 

Finally, in the middle row, Angelus spotted a lone bottle of L.A. Looks Extra Super Hold Styling Gel. Moving at super speed, he snaked out a hand and deposited the container in his jacket pocket. Security wouldn't have a clue he'd ripped them off. Satisfied with at least that one small triumph, Angelus turned to leave the store, when who should he spot at the other end of the aisle, shoplifting a bottle of peroxide, but... 

"Spike." Angelus' lips curled into a grin of pure evil. Thinking quickly, he ducked into the next aisle in an effort to stay out of Spike's sight. He hadn't seen the other vampire in ages. Not since the Acathla incident, which had gone so very wrong in part thanks to Spike's betrayal. Well, to be fair, Spike had also shown up in Los Angeles several months ago, but Angelus hadn't been out during that episode. The upshot was, Spike was cunning and vicious, and made a valuable ally Angelus couldn't afford to lose, especially considering his current circumstances. They had to team up. 

Cautiously, Angelus peered around the corner of the aisle and watched as Spike sauntered toward the front of the store. When he was sure he was far enough away to avoid detection, Angelus crept out from hiding. For the next few minutes, he trailed Spike through the exit, along the street, and into a narrow, deserted alley. It was the perfect place to stage the confrontation. 

Angelus followed Spike for several more paces, deliberately stepping loudly. As he'd expected, the other vampire swiftly picked up on the noise and whirled to face the intruder. Angelus stopped, as well, and enjoyed the look of surprise that crossed his companion's face. "Where are you going in such a hurry, Spike?" 

"Angel. Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have a very important appointment with a bottle of peroxide. My last victim told me my roots were showing. That's why she was my last victim." As he spoke, Spike sidled down the alley. Angelus edged toward him, careful to stay within a few feet. "Speaking of hair, maybe you ought to think about doing something with yours," Spike suggested. 

Angelus automatically felt his head, and Spike seized the opportunity to dart away. Damn! thought Angelus as he sprinted after the younger vampire. He should have known better than to fall for that old trick again. With speed born of desperation, he surged forward and tackled Spike near the end of the alley, sending them both flying against the filthy wall. Angelus, holding the advantage, pinned Spike from behind. "Nice try, but you can't trick me that easily." 

Trapped in a vulnerable position, Spike struggled like a sparrow caught in a hawk's claws. "Let go of me, you wanker." 

"Not very nice of you, Spike, to try to insult and run. Is that any way to treat your 'Yoda'?" 

Spike tensed and stopped squirming. "Lemme see your eyes." Angelus let up on his hold and held still as Spike turned and studied him. "It's you, Angelus? Not that git, Angel? You're really back?" 

"As I stand here, undead and not breathing." 

"So the soul's gone off on you? What happened, was Slutty stupid enough to spread her legs for you again?" 

"Nope, even easier than that." Angelus winced at the humiliating memories of his recent failed efforts to get into the Slayer's pants. "Actually, a hell of a lot easier. But enough about me. What have you been up to? Where's Dru?" 

"Um, not here." 

"Well, where is she?" 

Spike ducked his head and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "Fungus demon." 

"A Fungus demon killed Dru?" Angelus bristled. It simply wasn't right that a demon of one of the lowest orders had offed a member of the Order of Aurelius. 

"No, not killed her," Spike muttered. "Ran off with her." 

"What?" Angelus' lips twitched, but he decided not to rub Spike's face in the truth. The boy obviously felt bad enough already. "Never mind Dru for now. Let's go back to my place and talk in private. You never know who could be listening around here." 

"Right, then," Spike quickly agreed. 

As Angelus had suspected, for secrecy's sake Spike had stashed his DeSoto in a "safe place" where neither Buffy nor anyone else who mattered would spot it. Therefore, the two walked back to the mansion in near silence, both content to return to safety before they conversed in depth. 

Spike chuckled as Angelus led the way to the front door of the Crawford Street mansion. "You're back to living in this hellhole?" 

"Yes, thanks." Angelus shoved open the door and gestured for Spike to enter first. 

The blond vampire strolled into the living room and threw himself upon the sofa, propping his feet on the coffee table. "So, you take over the town yet, bathe in the Slayer's blood?" 

"Not exactly," Angelus admitted as he sat across from Spike on the easy chair. 

"What are you waiting for? Let's go get her!" 

Angelus held up a hand. "Now, now, you're missing the big picture here. Not everything is about killing Buffy. I have other goals." 

"Name two." 

Angelus sighed. He had little choice but to take a calculated risk and confide the truth in Spike. "Look, I was in Los Angeles, this bimbo actress drugged me, the drug created perfect happiness, I got free. No one knew, and I came back here posing as Angel with all bad intentions. I was going to torment and kill Buffy, Willow, the Watcher, the whole pack of them. But it turned out that Buffy's new boyfriend, Riley Finn...." Angelus recapped the entire sorry story of the Initiative and the chip in his head. When he had finished, he waited for Spike to stop laughing. While he was waiting, he realized he felt hungry again and he went to the kitchen to get a glass of blood. He carried the glass back to the living room and the first sight that greeted him was Spike, *still* holding his sides and roaring. "You can stop anytime," Angelus pointed out as he set his drink on the coffee table far away from Spike. The laughter didn't quiet even a bit. Finally, driven to the breaking point, Angelus reached over and whacked Spike upon the nose. 

The method worked; the younger vampire sat up straight and clamped a hand to his face while glaring at Angelus. "Hey! I thought you said you couldn't hurt anyone." 

"Correction, friend. I said I can't hurt *humans*. Other demons are still fair game. If you'd been a little more sympathetic to my situation, I wouldn't have done anything to you." Angelus reconsidered. "Okay, I might have anyway, just for the fun of it, but you gave me a great excuse on top of that. But the point of all this is, since I'm a little indisposed at the moment, I need your help to get back in fighting form." 

Spike rubbed his nose. "Why would I want to bail you out, and why would you ask me? Last I recall, I helped the Slayer beat you during the Acathla fiasco." 

Angelus nodded. "Thanks for reminding me. Except you happen to be in luck. I'm willing to overlook your betrayal. See, I'm seeking revenge on the basis of 'what have you done to me lately.' You're safe, Spikey. You didn't make the short list. By the time I worked my way back to you, well, I might even be tired of the whole business. Besides, you're family." 

"Too bad you didn't think about that before you went about stealing Dru from me," Spike whined. 

"Can I help it if she preferred the superior demon?" 

Spike jumped up. "That's it, I'm out of here." 

"Wait, Spike, I'm...." Angelus struggled to force out the word he almost never uttered. It was extremely difficult for him to verbalize it, but he needed Spike's help so badly, he was compelled to swallow his pride. "I'm sorry." 

Spike flopped back down on the couch. "That's more like it. It might be worth hanging around after all. But first, what's in it for me?" 

"Free fun, free food, free gallon of the Slayer's blood. It'll be just like old times." 

Spike cocked his head and frowned. Eventually, he said, "You know, Angelus, you still haven't asked why I came back to town." 

"All right, I'll bite. Why *are* you here?" 

"Same reason as you, mate. Revenge." 

Angelus grinned. He knew he'd let Spike survive all this time for a reason, and his generosity was finally paying off. "Then we're agreed?" 

"We are." 


	12. Demon Revenge, Ch 3

Angelus tiptoed down the mansion stairs, making as little noise as possible. He felt like he was trying not to wake a finicky baby, which was close to the truth: that he was trying not to wake a finicky vampire. He'd been lucky in that Spike had stayed up almost all of last night, slept all day, and showed no signs of stirring as dusk approached. Angelus reached for the front doorknob and was about to turn it when-- 

"Where do you think you're going without me?" 

Angelus turned to see the very vampire he'd been trying not to awaken. "Spike, I said you should stay here at the mansion to lessen the chance of Buffy finding out you're in town. That means remaining in hiding as much as possible. We don't want Buffy to know you're around. I'm going over to her house to see what she's up to, and you are not invited." 

"It's boring here. You don't even have a telly." 

"Yes, I do." Angelus pointed. "It's upstairs, in the third bedroom on the right. You can watch it while I'm out." 

Spike grinned. "Good, I can catch up on 'Passions.'" 

"You watch 'Passions'?" 

"Course I do. Good show, that." 

Angelus had a terrible image of himself watching the program with Spike every day, if he never got that chip out. "So, you stay home and watch TV, and I'll go out and do my thing." 

"Nah, 'Passions' isn't on now and neither is anything else. I want to go with you." 

"Spike..." One look at the other vampire's set expression and Angelus knew he was fighting a losing battle. "Oh, all right. You're probably right. I should keep you within sight or who knows what trouble you'll get yourself into." Angelus turned toward the garage. "Since you're coming along, we'd better take the car. With the top up." 

They got into the Plymouth and Angelus headed toward Revello Drive. Spike fiddled with the radio, but eventually gave up on finding a suitable station and shut the thing off. "So what's your plan to get back at Slutty? I take it it's not going well?" 

"She told me to go back to Los Angeles," Angelus related. "I'm going to have to do some major work to seduce her." 

"I can help you out with that part," Spike volunteered. "Pretending to be all soulful hasn't cut it, so it's past time to try something else, if you ask me. Pretend to be gravely injured, so she has to nurse you back to health. It's an old ploy, but a good one." 

Angelus considered the idea. "You might have something there." He had to admit, it felt good to talk to someone who understood, even if it was Spike. He was almost starting to feel charitable toward the other vampire as he turned onto Revello Drive and parked at the end of the block. "I need a few minutes to see what Buffy is up to. You wait here." 

"I want to come with you." 

"Spike, how old are you? Two, or a hundred and--" 

"I want to come with you," Spike stubbornly repeated. 

"Look, it's a bad idea. You shouldn't have come even this far, and you definitely shouldn't go near the house." 

"I'll be careful." Spike grabbed the door handle. 

"Aaargh! Fine. You'd just follow me anyway if I said no. So stay behind me, and be quiet." With Spike at his heels, Angelus exited the car and cautiously approached Buffy's house. The front curtains were open, with a light shining inside. "She must be home." Motioning for Spike to hang back, Angelus crept up to the window and peeked inside. Shit! Buffy wasn't there, but her mother was, and the hag was looking straight at him. Angelus ducked down and sprinted for the car. 

Spike's footsteps pounded up beside him. "What's wrong? What'd you see?" 

"Joyce," Angelus replied as they reached the Plymouth. "This is *not* good. Let's just hope she didn't spot you, too." 

"Why not? Joyce likes me," Spike reminded him as they hopped inside. 

"Because, idiot, she'll tell Buffy, who will then get stake-happy. I can't afford to let her dust you yet." 

"*Let* her? I can take care of myself, thank you very much." 

"I can't afford to let her know we're working together, or even speaking." Angelus started the car. "I heard one heartbeat in the house. Since Joyce is home, that must mean Buffy went back to stay on campus. She was only housesitting while her mother was away on business. We're going to UC Sunnydale to find her." 

"Whatever." Spike shrugged and resumed playing with the radio during the drive. 

Once they arrived at the campus, Angelus parked in a handicapped space and the two got out to stare at the numerous buildings facing them. 

"So, where does the Slayer live?" Spike asked. 

Angelus looked from building to building. "That, I don't know." 

"Then how're we supposed to find her in this maze? That's assuming she's even here. Could be out on patrol or visiting with those puny friends of hers." 

"I knew I shouldn't have let you come," Angelus snapped. "We'll have to ask around. Keep an eye out for anyone who knows you." He cut across campus, Spike again trailing. Still no sign of Buffy as he approached the nearest building, but Angelus caught a familiar scent on the wind and involuntarily growled. "Finn." 

"Who?" Spike asked. 

"Riley Finn." Angelus looked about and soon zeroed in on his enemy, who was lurking near an overgrown bush about 50 yards away. "He's the idiot over there who's trying so hard to look inconspicuous." 

"You want me to kill him tonight?" Spike asked as he and Angelus concealed themselves behind a huge oak tree. 

"No, leave him alone. I'm saving him for when I can do it myself." While he watched, a 40-something woman with close-cropped hair approached Riley. Angelus stiffened. He didn't remember her, but for some reason she felt familiar. "Shh!" he warned Spike as he set himself to eavesdrop. The voices carried clearly across the quiet campus, and Angelus had no trouble making out the words. 

"Any news on Hostile 28?" the woman asked Riley. 

"Not yet, ma'am, but I'm sure we'll have some soon." 

"Hurry up. I don't like the thought of it being on the loose when we don't know its location." 

"I think I know a way to find it. Buffy can probably tell me where it is." 

"I hope so. Carry on." 

The two said their goodbyes and departed in opposite directions as Angelus glowered. "They were talking about me, and I recognized that woman's voice. That bitch was in the room when the 'surgery' was performed on me. She must be in some position of authority at the Initiative." 

"Great," said Spike. "We've identified a couple of their people. Why don't we grab one of their doctors, torture him a little, he spills, you get back to normal, then we'll be able to work together and wipe out the lot of them." 

Angelus nodded. "Good idea. The sooner, the better." Checking to make sure Riley was gone, he stepped out from the shelter of their hiding place. "Let's get out of here." 

Spike fell into step next to him. "What about the Slayer? Don't you want to find her?" 

"Change of plans. We have to pay the Initiative complex a little visit and make them fix me. Tonight." 

*** 

Buffy stared across the campus at Riley. He stood barely 50 yards away. This was a good chance to approach him and try to talk him into helping. Even though the scene would probably be fairly uncomfortable, she had to make the attempt for Angel's sake. Squaring her shoulders, Buffy strode over to her ex-boyfriend. "Riley, hi." 

He jumped and turned to face her. "Hey, Buffy." 

"Look, I think you probably already have an idea of why I'm talking to you, so I'll make it quick. I need your help." 

Riley sighed. "You mean Angel does." 

Buffy shrugged. "What Angel needs, I need." 

"Well." Riley looked down before meeting her gaze again. "Buffy, you have to know I still feel the same way about you, despite your misguided feelings for that vampire. I do understand, kind of. He's so much older than you and he knows all kinds of tricks you can't possibly fight. I've heard about mind games--thralls and befuddlement, that sort of thing. He could have you believing your name was Mary Brown and you're a florist from Houston. He's undead and he's got more than two centuries on you. It's not your fault in the least." 

"Riley, will you *stop* it!" Buffy snapped. "I know Angel. I love and trust him totally. If you ever cared for me at all, you'd help me help him instead of arguing your case again." 

"It's *because* I care about you that I'm saying this," Riley insisted. "All right, I'll lay off, but I'm still going to be thinking it, you know. And by the way, where's Angel staying these days?" 

"What, you and your buddies didn't implant a tracking device in him along with that chip?" 

"No, and we need to know where he is. For public safety." 

Buffy snorted. "Yeah, right. It's actually so you can torture him some more. To you, he doesn't mean anything. It's like he's less than you are and his feelings don't count. Well, that's just bullshit." 

"Buffy..." Riley tried again. She stared at him, unbending. "Oh, forget it. No, I have no intention of helping. Angel's on his own." 

"Fine." Buffy turned and stalked away. Trying to reason with Riley had turned out to be a waste of breath. 


	13. Demon Revenge, Ch 4

Angelus squirmed into a more comfortable position on the living-room sofa and lowered the volume on the TV set. The banal "Passions" dialogue was interfering with his enjoyment of the moans and screams of the Initiative doctor Spike was torturing. 

It hadn't proven very difficult to abduct Dr. Bauer. The previous night, after leaving UC Sunnydale, Angelus had shown Spike to the Initiative complex, then was forced to watch helplessly as Spike experienced all the fun of picking a likely-looking target and knocking him around a bit. Afterwards, they'd brought the doctor home, where Spike had locked him alone in the torture chamber for several hours in an effort to soften him up. Then, he and Angelus had paid the man a little visit. Despite his fear, Bauer had refused to talk, so Angelus began instructing Spike on the most effective torture methods. Unfortunately, he'd soon been forced to leave the room himself. The scent of blood and the lure of easy prey had drawn out his demonic instincts, and also set off the damned chip. It was entirely too sensitive. He'd just wanted to collect some blood, but would the chip let him? Of course not. 

So, here he found himself, watching the foolish teen characters of "Passions" when he was meant to be honing his skills on a perfectly good, deserving victim. The program provided decent diversion under ordinary circumstances, but it paled in comparison to the show taking place in the other room. Spike had shifted Bauer to a chamber on the ground floor and insisted that Angelus move the TV into the living room so that he could check in on the events on his favorite soap opera, which he did way too frequently for Angelus' liking. So far, the doctor hadn't divulged any useful information, but Angelus was certain it was only a matter of time. The less, the better. Usually, he preferred to draw out torture scenes to heighten the pleasure, but the sooner Bauer cracked, the closer Angelus would be to regaining his full power. 

"Here." 

Angelus looked up. Spike was extending a tall glass of blood toward him. Angelus sniffed. The blood smelled warm and human. He hadn't tasted fresh human blood since Rebecca Lowell's fortunate accident. He snatched the glass and gulped the precious liquid down in one long swallow. 

Spike threw himself onto the couch. "Got it off of the doctor. It was dripping down him so I figured why waste it on the floor when I could waste it on you." 

When Spike made no move to go back to the torture room, Angelus found his gratitude evaporating. "Why aren't you at work? What are you doing out here?" 

"Taking a break." Spike fixed his eyes on the TV screen. 

"You're letting him up on him." 

"Come on, Angelus, let me have a little time off, will you?" 

"Spike, you were probably close to breaking him down. Then you left him alone, for the fifth time in half an hour. That's way too often, and you can bet he knows your heart's not in it. Chances are, he'll regain some strength and resolve, and you'll have to work twice as hard to get back to where you were." 

"Shhh!" Spike hissed. "Timmy's on." 

With a snarl, Angelus turned away from the other vampire. No matter what he said, he probably wouldn't get through to the idiot. For about the hundredth time that day, Angelus wished he could do the honors on Bauer himself. Spike was entirely the wrong vampire for the job. He didn't appreciate the nuances of torture, the joy to be had in snapping bone after bone, the pleasure of selecting precisely the right knife for the organ. If Angelus were in that room, he would be basking in every second of the experience. Spike, though, acted like it was a boring chore. 

Angelus started as he heard a rapping at the front door. "Spike, hide!" 

"Timmy's on," Spike reminded him. 

"Well, you'll have to miss him for a few minutes. We have a visitor, and I do *not* want whoever it is to know you're in town. It could be Willow or Xander, possibly even Giles. Go make sure that doctor doesn't make a sound until I can get rid of whatever parasite is here." 

Slowly, Spike pushed himself to his feet. "I don't like missing 'Passions.' If you don't go out and lift a VCR tonight so I can start taping it, I will." 

"Fine, whatever." Angelus shooed a reluctant Spike out of sight before he crossed to the front door, where he hesitated. Maybe whoever it was had left? No, that small mercy was too much to hope for, as he heard a louder knocking. Positioning himself so the sun's rays wouldn't strike him, Angelus eased the door open and stood back to get a clear look at his visitor. "Joyce." Angelus was forced to allow Buffy's witch of a mother to enter his residence. She paced inside and then turned to stare down her nose at him with pinched lips and a sour expression. If she tried to smile, he bet her face would shatter. Of course, Angelus doubted she would be doing much smiling at him, and the feeling was mutual. 

Joyce was holding a small purse and a white plastic bag. She extended the bag toward Angelus. "Angel, I believe this is yours." 

He accepted the bag and peeked inside. Unfortunately, rather than something he could use, it contained the hideous pale-colored shirt Cordelia had given Angel at Christmas in an attempt to spruce up what she termed his drab wardrobe. If it had been either leather or silk, Angelus might have loved it. But it was boring, bland cotton. Worst of all, Angel's name was stitched over the pocket. What the hell had Cordelia been thinking when she bought it? Angelus hated the rag. He'd only accidentally packed it during his rush to leave Los Angeles. Once he'd arrived in Sunnydale and discovered the presence of the ugly item of clothing, he'd banished it from his suitcase. 

To his credit, Angel hadn't liked the thing, either. However, he'd worn it a couple of times to avoid hurting Cordelia's feelings. Angelus had no such scruples. If he'd been able to, he would have strangled the silly twit with her so-called "gift." 

"Where did you find this?" he asked Joyce. 

"In the corner of my bedroom, on the floor. I understand Buffy invited you to stay in my house while I was away on business. I must say, I'm not pleased that you took her up on that offer. You're older than Buffy, and you should have better judgement. In this case, you obviously didn't display it. You didn't show respect for my daughter, and you certainly didn't show it for me in going behind my back when you knew my wishes in this matter. Have you already forgotten the conversation we had not long before you moved to Los Angeles?" 

Actually, Angelus recalled it very clearly. That little talk with Joyce had played an instrumental part in convincing the guilt-stricken soul to run away. It was the stupidest thing he could have done, but Angel hadn't listened to the demon's advice, which basically was to rip out the throat of the nosy bitch who dared try to intimidate him. Instead, he'd left supposedly the only person he'd ever loved and moved to another city. Pathetic. 

Joyce was still blathering away, glaring stakes at Angelus all the while. She was probably annoyed that he hadn't invited her to sit down, but some things, a demon shouldn't be expected to do. "I think you wanted me to know you were in my house," Joyce complained. "Aside from this shirt, I also found traces of blood in my best crystal pitcher and several mugs. However, that isn't really the point." She paused to stare at him in blatant disapproval. At that moment, a muffled scream sounded from the torture chamber where Spike was hiding with Dr. Bauer. "What was that?" Joyce attempted to look around Angelus. 

"The television set," he lied, glad he had left the thing on. "If you're finished, maybe you could leave? Now?" 

Joyce stood her ground. "Angel, I have a few more things to say to you, and I want you to remain quiet while I'm speaking. I saw you peeking in the windows of my house last night. You're behaving like a stalker, and it's very disturbing. Do you really think that's what is best for Buffy? If you truly care for her, you'll leave her alone and let her move on with her life. She was doing exactly that before you came back. Now, I don't know how long it will take her to recover. I know she's asked you to return to Los Angeles, yet you haven't done it and I don't see any packed suitcases lying around." 

Would the biddy *never* leave? Angelus decided to give her a big hint that should help send her on her way. Pumping the refrain of, 'I'm not going to kill her; this is just for show,' into his brain to satisfy the chip, he morphed into demon face. "I'm feeling a little hungry, Joyce. Like I said, maybe you could hurry this along?" 

As he'd hoped, the witch was frightened by his altered appearance. Her heart began to pound with intoxicating speed and the scent of fear filled the air. Angelus automatically licked his fangs, wishing he could have just a little taste of that tangy blood. 

Joyce promptly shrieked, turned, and bolted out the door. Probably hadn't moved that fast in years. 

With a shrug, Angelus allowed his face to smooth out and his fangs to retract. He'd been assured many times by other vampires that he possessed an extremely evil-looking demon form, but it was certainly gratifying to have proof. 

He crossed to the front door, locked it, and went back to the torture room. "Spike?" He tapped on the door. "The bat is gone. Open up." 

A few seconds later, the door slid open and Spike sidled out. "Think we're about done here." 

"What?" Angelus looked past him, into the room. "Did he give in? Did he tell how to fix me?" 

"Not exactly," Spike hedged, eyes downcast. 

A terrible fear seized Angelus. "What happened? What did you do to him?" 

"I kinda broke him. You might have heard the scream when it happened." 

"He's dead? Spike, you were supposed to mangle him, not kill him." Angelus shoved open the door and looked in upon the dead body hanging against the wall. "This is all wrong." 

"He did say something before he died," Spike offered. "Could be useful." 

"Well, what was it?" 

"He was begging me to stop, said he'd talk, then he said the name 'Maggie Walsh' and that was it. Mean anything to you?" 

Angelus considered. "Not yet, but it will." 

Spike began to clean off the torture equipment, muttering, "I still don't see why we can't have any minions around. They're supposed to be the ones taking care of shit like this." 

Angelus impassively watched as Spike went about the task. "At least we obtained some information. Now we figure out who Maggie Walsh is and see if she can be of any assistance." 

"I guess. So, who was at the door?" 

"Oh, that's right, you were too busy killing Dr. Bauer to catch any of the fun," Angelus recalled. "It was Buffy's mother." 

"Joyce? For a human, she isn't too bad. I respect her." Spike smiled in reminiscence. "She hit me over the head with an ax once." 

"Evidently either too hard, or not hard enough. Anyway, she was poking her nose in where it doesn't belong. She had the nerve to try to pressure me into leaving town so I had to scare her away." 

"How?" Angelus demonstrated, and Spike nodded. "Effective little trick. You realize, of course, that she probably thinks you've gone bad again. Bet she'll run and tell the Slayer about it right off. You might have blown your cover." 

"No worries, Spike. First of all, Buffy won't find out about the situation immediately. She's in class most of the afternoon. If her mother tries to talk to her, she'll have to wait quite some time. For another thing, Buffy won't just blindly believe Joyce. She'll want to hear my version of events...." Angelus trailed off as an idea occurred to him. He tested it, repeating, "Buffy will want to hear my version of events." 

Spike dismissively waved a gory scalpel. "Yeah, you already said that. So what?" 

"I think I've figured out a plan to get to Buffy. We just have to be ready for her." 

*** 

Late that afternoon, Buffy trailed back to her dorm room after her last class of the day to find an anxious Willow awaiting her. 

"Buffy, your mom called and she was pretty upset. Something happened today that bothered her and she wants you to go home to see her. She specifically said to go there instead of phoning and to do it before you patrol." 

Buffy threw her books on her bed and turned back to the door. "I'd better leave now. I don't like the sounds of this." 

Willow fell into step beside her. "Come on. I talked to Tara and she can give you a ride." 

*** 

Not long afterwards, Tara stopped her car in front of the Summers' house. 

"You want me to go in with you?" Willow asked Buffy. 

"No, that's okay. It's probably a family thing." As they looked at the house, Joyce opened the front door and peered outside. "Mom seems worried. I'd better get going. Thanks for the ride, and I'll let you two know how things turn out." 

"Buffy! Hurry and get inside! It's almost sunset." Joyce cast nervous glances around the yard. 

"Bye, guys." Buffy jumped out of the car and joined her mother in the house. Joyce instantly slammed and locked the front door, then grabbed a wooden chair and wedged it under the knob. "What is going on, Mom? You're scaring me. Is someone after you? Is it a vampire?" 

Joyce turned to face her daughter. "Yes, it is. It's Angel." 

"What? That doesn't make any sense." 

"It's true," Joyce insisted, her voice rising. "I went to see him this afternoon, and he turned into a hideous monster right before my eyes, *and* he threatened me. He said he was hungry. Coming from a vampire, I'd say that was a threat." 

"You must have misunderstood. Angel would never even think about harming you." 

Not seeming to hear, Joyce rambled on, "His face was so ugly. It had ridges on it and his eyes were yellow and his teeth were like an animal's. How could you ever stand to kiss something like that?" 

"Calm down." Buffy led her mother to the couch and waited until they were both seated before she continued. "Now, you said you went to see Angel this afternoon. Why?" 

Joyce looked away and then back at Buffy. "I brought him the shirt he left in my room." 

"The shirt wasn't that important that you needed to take time off from work to bring it to him," Buffy pointed out. "I could have taken it sometime or you could have waited until after work." 

"To be honest, I thought it shouldn't wait any longer. I wanted to see if he had left town, like you requested. Obviously, he hasn't." 

"So, you found Angel at home and you gave him the shirt back? Then what?" 

"I expressed my surprise at the fact that he was still in Sunnydale when you had asked him to go away." Joyce took a deep breath. "That was when he went crazy. One minute, he looked like an ordinary human, and the next, he was a bloodthirsty vampire trying to kill me." 

"Did he actually attack you or act like he was going to?" 

"He said he was hungry, and he was looking straight at me! That was a very clear sign. I didn't give him a chance to do anything else because I ran away into the sunlight." Joyce lowered her voice and gazed into her daughter's eyes. "Buffy, you can't trust Angel. Last night he was creeping around the house, peering in the windows. I'm sure he's dangerous." 

The situation was now officially weird, Buffy decided. She couldn't picture Angel purposely scaring her mom unless he had turned evil again, and that couldn't have happened. Angel definitely hadn't experienced a moment of happiness for quite a while. However, Buffy could think of one easy way to straighten out matters. "Mom, you stay here," she instructed as she stood up. 

Joyce grabbed at her sleeve. "Where are you going?" 

"To see Angel and find out what he has to say. There's got to be a logical explanation." 

"You can't go! He'll kill you!" 

"No, he won't. Even when he was Angelus, he didn't. But if it makes you feel any better, I always carry a stake." Buffy displayed Mr. Pointy. "Don't worry, Mom. I'm the Slayer--I can take care of myself." 

It took some convincing, but eventually Buffy managed to talk her way out of the house without Joyce throwing too much of a fit. Keeping a wary lookout for vampires or any other dangers, Buffy set off for the mansion and wondered what had really happened between her mother and Angel. Joyce must have left out some of the details. For instance, her explanation of why she had decided to visit Angel seemed suspicious. Well, Angel should be able to fill in the blanks with his side of the story. 

Buffy continued on through the dark and reached the mansion with no trouble along the way. She pounded on the front door. "Angel?" No answer. He could be in a distant part of the house, so she turned the knob to find that the door was unlocked. Slowly, Buffy pushed it open, with a feeling of foreboding she couldn't explain. "Angel?" 

When she entered the place, she found an explanation for her strange feeling. The mansion was a mess. Blood was splattered on the walls, chunks of plaster from a shattered statue decorated the floor, an oil landscape hung askew, the sofa was overturned, and the coffee table was smashed. In the midst of the wreckage lay Angel, coated with blood and not moving a muscle. 

"Angel!" Buffy dashed through the disaster area of a room and dropped to her knees at his side. 

From a distance, he had looked badly injured. Up close, the situation was even worse. Blood ran down his face from a deep gash on his forehead and soaked his shirt--the one Joyce had returned to him that very day. One leg was twisted unnaturally, and worst of all, his face was ivory white, leached of all but the faintest color. Besides which, he doubtlessly had suffered many other injuries that weren't visible. The only positive aspect was that Angel wasn't dust, so Buffy could still try to save him. 

She thought desperately. Should she attempt to rouse him? Shake him by the shoulder? No--any movement could cause greater damage. What could she do to help? 

Blood! Of course! Casting one last anxious glance at Angel, Buffy jumped up and tore into the kitchen, where she flung open the refrigerator door expecting to see a shelf full of blood bags, only to find...nothing. Except for a jar of hot sauce in the door, the refrigerator was empty. So was the freezer, and not even a cooler was in sight. A drained plastic bag lying in the trash can constituted the only evidence that Angel had ever had any animal blood in the place. 

But she had to feed him soon, or he might not survive. Buffy grabbed the kitchen telephone and began to dial Giles' number. Then she stopped--the phone didn't have a dial tone. She rushed back to the living room, only to find the same situation there. Angel must not have seen any need to have the phone lines hooked up, apparently never having considered the possibility that an emergency might arise. 

Buffy looked at him again. He lay still, his position unchanged. If anything, his pallor had increased. He needed blood, he had none in the house, and if he had to wait for Buffy to go out and fetch him some, he might not make it. 

She really had no choice. 

Once she had made the decision, Buffy sprang into action. She darted back into the kitchen, selected a large, polished carving knife from the silverware drawer, and yet again proceeded back into the living room. She crouched down beside Angel and lay the knife to the side on the floor. She didn't want to have to use it, but just in case, it was best to have it nearby. 

Potent Slayer blood might save Angel. It certainly had a better chance than the animal blood he had been feeding on lately. Buffy firmly pressed her wrist to his lips, hoping instinct would take over and he would somehow find the energy to bite down. 

Nothing happened. 

Buffy waited another few seconds, then remembered the time she had practically forced Angel to feed from her. She had hit him until he'd vamped out. Only, that time he had at least been conscious and aware of his surroundings. If she hit him now, she might only succeed in causing him greater injury. No. She wouldn't take that risk. 

Desperately, Buffy looked at the knife. She had no other options left. Slowly, she picked it up and poised it over her left wrist. Then, taking a deep breath, she made a shallow incision. Blood welled up along the length of the cut. Again, Buffy held her arm to Angel's mouth, praying he would smell or taste the blood and come around. As she waited, she made all sorts of promises to herself. If Angel pulled through, she wouldn't take him for granted anymore. She would do more to help him get the chip out of his head. She would look into resuming their relationship like he wanted. She would promise anything, if only Angel would live. 

But by the end of her frantic prayers, he still hadn't stirred. "Come on, Angel," Buffy urged. "I love you. You can't die!" 

As if in response, he twitched in the first movement she had yet seen. 

"You can do it," Buffy encouraged, squeezing several droplets directly onto his lips. 

Slowly, Angel's demonic ridges formed and he began to lap at her wound. Then his fangs latched on and he sucked steadily, pulling in mouthfuls of blood. 

Buffy steadied herself with her free arm as Angel continued to drink. He hadn't opened his eyes, but surely the fact that he was feeding so strongly was a good sign. Only, maybe he was feeding a little *too* strongly. After a few minutes, Buffy began to feel faint, like she was about to pass out. Angel couldn't need that much blood, could he? Already the gash on his head was almost healed and his other visible wounds had disappeared. 

"Angel." She gently touched his face. He ignored her and continued to drink. Buffy pushed at his head with a little more force. "Angel! Can you hear me? Stop!" He merely pulled harder. With the last of her waning strength, Buffy wrenched her arm from Angel's mouth and threw herself away from him. 

He emitted a low growl, and the amber eyes of Angelus flickered open to stare up at her. 

TBC 


	14. Demon Revenge 5: Bitedown

_Last time: Angelus and Spike abducted a doctor who worked for the Initiative. While torturing the man, Spike accidentally killed him, but his victim said Maggie Walsh's name right before he died. Joyce visited "Angel" and tried to guilt him into leaving town. To get rid of her, Angelus vamped out and threatened her. Joyce informed Buffy of the incident; Buffy went to see "Angel," and found the mansion in shambles, with "Angel" lying on the floor, injured. To save him, she fed him some of her own blood but grew alarmed when he continued to drink and growled at her._

__

__************ 

Angelus fixed his gaze on Buffy. The chip hadn't gone off while he was drinking, probably because she had freely offered and he hadn't really hurt her. Of course, if he'd kept going she would have been drained, and it wouldn't have taken all that much longer, either. Her death would have been an absolute shame. The circumstances weren't nearly dramatic enough to suit Angelus. 

Nevertheless, he was pleased. He had taken as much blood as he had dared and then some, enraptured by the taste of the rich, Slayer-enhanced liquid. In fact, he didn't think he had *ever* had better blood. Maybe he should reconsider his plans to do away with Buffy. If he could convince her to become his personal drinking fountain, she'd be worth keeping around indefinitely. 

Buffy was staring at him with fear and horror in her eyes as she clutched her bleeding arm. Angelus finally returned to his human guise, and she visibly relaxed. But she didn't come any nearer. That would never do, Angelus decided. He had to fix things. "Buffy?" he murmured as weakly as possible. "Is that you?" 

She stifled a sob. "Yes, Angel. You're going to be okay." 

"What...happened?" He wrinkled his brow and did his best to imitate Xander's usual expression. 

The old "fake amnesia" routine worked like a charm. "You were injured, but everything's all right now. My love brought you back from the brink of death." 

_'Aren't you forgetting something? I'm already dead.'_ Artfully, Angelus fluttered his eyelashes. 

As he had expected, that little trick brought Buffy scuttling to his side like a crab. "Angel? What's wrong?" 

He slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Buffy. "Just gathering my thoughts. Tell me what happened?" 

Buffy gestured around the untidy room. "I heard about your run-in with my mom, I came over to talk, and I found you lying here. Oh, my God, Angel!" she shrieked practically in his ear, obviously not sparing a thought to the extreme sensitivity of vampire hearing. "What did this to you?" 

"A demon," Angelus explained, trying to communicate the full force of his sincerity to Buffy. He actually wasn't lying, and he had to take advantage of the few times he bothered to be honest with her. Because in truth, a demon--or more precisely, two--*had* done the damage. Once Angelus had come up with the plan that afternoon to fool Buffy and win her sympathy, he and Spike had launched into action, trashing the house. Then they'd called a little black magic into effect to create Angelus' extreme pallor. Afterwards, Spike had gleefully helped the older vampire obtain a few nasty-looking external injuries. Predictably, Buffy had shown up at the mansion to find the place in chaos. Spike had already fled the scene, leaving Buffy to draw the obvious conclusion. "Yeah, a demon did it," Angelus repeated. 

"What did it look like?" Buffy questioned, slipping into Slayer mode. 

"It was...big," Angelus answered vaguely. "It took me by surprise. I didn't get a good look at it, and my memory's still shaky." 

Ah, the perfect excuse, which Buffy didn't question after another glance at his limp body. "We shouldn't leave you lying on the floor." She reached over and flipped the overturned couch. "There, good as new. Can you move?" 

"I think so." Angelus shifted, pleased that his wounds had almost completely healed. Of course, Buffy didn't need to know that. The injuries had been a necessary evil to trick the Slayer, and not one he'd enjoyed undergoing. Pain was (usually) so much more fun to deal out than to endure. Fortunately, his plotting might have served its purpose. Musing over the odds of success, Angelus abused Buffy's generous and unnecessary help during the move over to the couch. 

Buffy brought over a throw pillow and arranged it under his head. "Is that better?" 

Her concern was really rather sweet. Angelus hated sweetness. "Wonderful," he lied. 

Sinking onto the floor at his side, Buffy laughed softly. "You know, you're going to think I'm being a little foolish, but for a minute there, I was worried that you were, well, Angelus again. You looked at me with those eyes like he used to. But that was stupid. You couldn't have lost your soul because you didn't have a moment of happiness." 

"Exactly," Angelus agreed soothingly. "After all, what part of being attacked by a demon would make me happy?" 

Buffy cocked her head and listened intently. "Do you think the demon's still in the house?" 

Angelus pretended to consider. "No, it ran away. I think I injured it pretty badly. It probably crawled outside and died nearby." 

"You can't be sure of that. I have to track it down. Who knows how many other people it might attack if it survives." Buffy's eyes narrowed. "Anyway, I have a score to settle. I've said it before: You can try to do what you want to me, but my boyfriend is off limits! I'm going to kick that demon's ass." 

She jumped up and started to storm off, but had only taken a few steps before she swayed ominously. Angelus allowed himself a tiny grin. The blood loss had gotten to Buffy. He watched as she steadied herself against the one leather armchair he had dared to buy. 

"Maybe I'll wait a little while," she decided. 

"Good idea." Angelus waited until Buffy collapsed upon the chair, then continued with his plan. "So... did you mean what you said? About me being your boyfriend again?" 

Buffy opened her mouth. "I...um..." She took a deep breath. "Yeah. I did mean it." 

This time, Angelus couldn't restrain himself from smirking in triumph. Buffy was falling right into his clutches. 

*** 

It was a beautiful day even if the sun *was* shining, Angelus decided. His plan was rolling along, he had the house to himself for the time being, and he'd gotten drunk on Slayer blood. Speaking of the Slayer, she had re-declared his love for him, which was just what he'd been angling for. She'd gone home earlier this morning, more or less recovered from her donation of the night before, with a promise to come back later to see him and the implication that they could spend the weekend together. 

Yes, things were going well. Except for the condition of the house. Angelus looked with disgust at the filthy mess that surrounded him. True, his handiwork had served an ignoble purpose, but the last thing he wanted to do was spend the day cleaning up the mansion. Still, the splattered blood, the plaster shards, the sheer disarray offended his sensibilities. 

As he considered how best to resolve the problem, a noise from the back of the house alerted Angelus to the presence of an intruder. He whirled around to see Spike stroll into the room and remove a heavy plaid blanket from around his shoulders. 

Spike tossed the blanket onto the floor and regarded Angelus. "You're still here, so I can only assume my plan succeeded brilliantly." 

Angelus snatched up the blanket and threw it over the back of the sofa. "*Your* plan? I was the genius behind it." 

"No, as I recall, I suggested it a few days ago. You just made some minor adjustments and stole it for your own uses." 

"As I was saying, *my* plan worked like a charm," Angelus went on smoothly. "About all I have left to do is to find an innocent demon to take the blame for the attack on me. I would have done it last night, but Buffy decided to stay over." 

Spike shrugged and threw himself onto the couch. "Problem already taken care of. I was thinking way ahead of you, mate. Proves it was my plan, doesn't it? Anyway, one ugly demon carcass is outside your back door as we argue. You can thank me anytime." 

Angelus gestured around the room. "I might after you clean up in here. See, living in the midst of squalor might not bother you, but it certainly disturbs me." 

"So clean the place yourself, then. I've got worse things to do. Besides, I don't think it's fair that you stole the credit for my plan, *and* you got Slayer blood and I didn't." 

"How do you know I got Slayer blood? You weren't here last night." 

"Got a brain, don't I? I figured Slutty would come to your rescue the only way she could think up." 

Angelus was about to fill Spike in when he heard a second disturbing noise. "Shhh!" He listened intently. "Shit! Spike, get out of here! Two cars just stopped outside, and I detect the mind-numbing voices of Buffy's little friends." 

"Whose home is this, theirs or mine? Bad enough I had to stay out all last night and come home during the day." Spike slowly got to his feet. "Fine, I'll go upstairs and watch some telly. Good thing we moved it back there, out of harm's way. I'd hate to have destroyed it for no real reason." 

"Keep the volume down!" Angelus called after him. 

Fortunately, Buffy and company took their time moving, so Spike was well out of the way before they made their way to the house. As they filed inside, Angelus was able to greet them with his best fake "surprised" voice, growing less enthusiastic by the person. "Buffy. Anya. Tara. Willow. Giles. Xander." Well, matters could have been worse. At least Buffy was still on the outs with Riley and hadn't invited him over. 

Buffy beamed at him. "Angel, I told the gang what happened to you and they all felt really bad, so we came over to help you clean up the mess. We even brought our own supplies. See?" She held up a bucket and sponge, while the others displayed their own equipment. 

"How...thoughtful." Angelus quickly decided that he rather liked the idea of Buffy and her gang slaving away, fixing the damage *he* had caused. 

Judging from the permanent scowl affixed to Xander's face, he was present under duress. Nevertheless, like the others, he set to work scrubbing and sweeping and vacuuming away. Angelus made sure to participate as little as possible, instead answering Giles' probing questions about the previous night's "attack" and his current condition. 

He cleverly waited until the house was nearly spotless before "pretending" to remember important information. "By the way, Buffy, the demon that attacked me is lying dead outside the back door, like I suspected last night." 

Immediately, everyone dropped their cleaning supplies and moved in a pack to the rear of the house. Angelus lurked inside as they dragged the body up near the back door, where he got his first real look at it. The demon was a skinny, gray, scaly thing with small claws on its limbs. 

Giles shook his head as he studied the creature. "Angel, this is a Malkov demon. They are usually very poor fighters. I don't understand how one could have overpowered you, considering your vastly superior strength." 

"It did take me by surprise," Angelus covered, wondering if Spike had deliberately chosen a weak demon just to make him squirm. Probably. 

"I simply don't understand it," Giles reiterated. 

Everyone else regarded Angelus with varying degrees of suspicion (Xander, Anya) and pity (the others). 

He couldn't have them questioning his actions too closely. It was time to work on damage control. Buffy was most vulnerable to his trickery. He had to cut her away from the herd. "Buffy, can I talk to you alone?" Angelus maneuvered her into the privacy of the living room and pinned on a sorrowful expression as he launched into his latest lie. "It pains me to have to say this, but I'm afraid your mother's appearance yesterday played no small role in the extent of the injuries I sustained. You see, she said some very upsetting and distracting things to me, so I was hardly at my best when it counted." 

Buffy frowned. "What upsetting things?" 

Angelus rolled out the token objection. "I don't know if I should tell you." 

"*Like what*?" Buffy snapped. 

Angelus sighed. "Since you insist on knowing... I'm no good for you, I drag you down, I should stay out of your life, that sort of thing. I shouldn't have let it get to me. After all, it's not like I haven't heard those same words from Joyce before." 

"When before?" 

"Before you graduated from high school, Joyce came to see me." Which was perfectly correct. It was always best to mix some truths with the lies. 

"You never told me about that!" Buffy recalled. 

"I shouldn't even be mentioning it now. Please forget I did." 

As he had expected, Buffy ignored the request. "Answer one question: Did that talk with my mother play any part in your decision to leave me and move to Los Angeles?" 

"Buffy, it's not like she said anything that wasn't true.... All right, yes, it did help convince me to leave. But don't blame your mother. She was doing what she felt was best for you, like any good mother should." 

"She was interfering in matters that didn't concern her, you mean." Buffy's lips compressed into a thin line. "Wait until I have a little talk with my so-called 'good' mother." 

Those words were music to Angelus' ears. Joyce would regret the day she had poked her nose into his business, or the soul's. Because he might hate the soul, but it was *his* soul to crush down. When some harridan like Joyce Summers took it upon herself to intercede, she had to be properly put in her place. Ah, the intricacies of mental torture. If Angelus could destroy the mother/daughter bond, it would be a very proud night indeed. 

*** 

The much-anticipated weekend was upon him. In preparation for Buffy's likely arrival, Angelus devoted part of Friday to cleaning and decorating the main bedroom of the mansion. Just in case, of course. He couldn't have any particular expectations, considering how hot and cold Buffy had been running around him. When he was satisfied the room was in suitable condition, he proceeded downstairs to find Spike lounging on the sofa, clutching a goblet of blood in one hand and a cigarette in the other. 

At the annoying sight, Angelus felt his patience evaporating. "Spike. What are you still doing here?" 

"What's wrong with you, mate?" Spike blew a stream of smoke in his direction. "Get up on the wrong side of the coffin?" 

"I'm expecting Buffy over at any minute. She implied that we're going to spend the weekend together. In other words, I don't want a third wheel hanging around. Find yourself another place to crash until Monday." Angelus snatched the cigarette from Spike's mouth and crushed it out on the broken remains of the coffee table. 

"Hey, that's hardly fair," Spike protested. "*I* live here, not Slutty, *and* I'm your partner in crime. It's in your best interests to treat me with a little more respect. You need me a lot more than I need you." 

"Fine. For hell's sake, Spike, will you please haul your undead ass out of this place for the weekend?" 

"That's more like it." Spike finished off his drink, handed the goblet to Angelus, and sauntered toward the door. "See you in a few." 

"Wait." Angelus grabbed his sleeve. "What will you be up to while you're gone? Remember, you'll have to lie low. Buffy isn't the only one who knows what you look like, and I doubt her friends will be thrilled to see you around." 

Spike shook his arm free. "Like I'd allow any of that sorry lot to spot me? Not gonna happen." 

"All right, then." Angelus stood back, then remembered his latest idea. "Before you go, there *is* one thing you can do to help me." 

Spike raised a brow. "And what's that?" 

"Investigate Maggie Walsh. Identify her, figure out her schedule, pinpoint any of her weaknesses. The more preparation we put into matters, the easier the job will be when it comes time to capture her." 

"That, I don't know about. You say 'we' a lot, but I'm the one ends up slogging away most of the time. This business sounds like more of the same, and you know what they say: 'Hard work pays off in the future. Laziness pays off now.' I read that on a calendar somewhere and let me tell you, it's sounding pretty good at the moment." 

Angelus growled. "Spike, need I remind you that this chip does *not* prevent me from harming other demons?" 

"Fine, I'll see what I can do. No need to get nasty 'bout things." Spike trotted over to the door and paused with his hand on the knob. "Oh, by the way, bad luck with the Slayer." 

With Spike out of his hair, Angelus spent the next half hour disposing of any signs that another vampire had been in the house. It wouldn't do to make Buffy suspicious. The lingering cigarette smoke caused the most trouble, but after throwing open all the nearby doors and windows and airing out the place, Angelus was reasonably satisfied that Buffy wouldn't notice the scent. He had barely finished his last sweep of the ground floor when the sound of muffled crying reached his ears. Buffy had arrived. 

"Angel!" she called in a quavering voice. "I need you!" 

Angelus went to greet the sobbing Slayer, wondering who or what had caused her such emotional distress and how he could thank them. "There, there." He patted her on the back, still trying to get used to the gentle, soothing style instead of the forceful smacks he preferred to dole out. "What's got you so upset?" 

With a last hiccuping sob, Buffy calmed herself enough to speak clearly. "I confronted my mother and we had a huge fight. It was awful. She admitted she came to see you before graduation and she claimed it was 'for my own good.' I can't trust her anymore. How could my own mother go behind my back that way? Then she brought things down to a choice between you and her, no middle ground. I told her, 'Fine, Angel is the only one who's honest with me so I pick him.' And it's true. You don't lie to me or go behind my back to try to ruin my life. You're supportive and generous and kind and loving, and I don't know what I'd do if you ever left me again." 

"You don't have to worry about that happening," Angelus reassured her. 

Buffy nodded. "I know." She took several deep breaths, then stepped back and looked him in the eye. "That's why I've come to a huge decision. It's time, Angel. I want you to make love to me. You said you're sure you won't lose your soul and I trust you with all my heart and soul. I know you'd never deliberately do anything to put me in danger." 

Ah, the injustice of it all. Like an overripe plum, Buffy was finally falling into his hands. It just went to prove, perseverance paid off. 

However, Angelus realized he'd taken too long to gloat instead of answering when, fresh tears glistening in her eyes, Buffy drew back. "I'm sorry, I didn't even think to ask how you felt. If you don't want me anymore, I'll understand." 

What would Angel say to repair the situation? Probably a cliche like, "I will *always* want you, Buffy," which Angelus delivered with the most conviction he could muster. 

Predictably, that old line worked like a charm. Buffy's lip stopped quivering and she smiled brilliantly. "You don't know what it does to me to hear you say that, Angel." 

Well, he had her where he wanted her, and that was when the depressing memories of Buffy and Angel's very boring first (and only) time together surged to the forefront of Angelus' mind. "Vanilla" didn't even begin to describe that night. But really, with some intelligent instruction, how bad could Buffy be? 

He was about to find out. 

TBC 


	15. Demon Revenge 6: The Hunt

_Last time: After finding an injured "Angel," Buffy decided they should resume their relationship. Angelus then "accidentally" told Buffy that Joyce was partially responsible for making him leave Sunnydale in the first place, thereby turning Buffy against her mother. Buffy arrived at the mansion ready to spend the weekend with "Angel."._

__

__***** 

Angelus sighed. "No, no, no!" How to phrase matters in a way Buffy would understand? He went with the tried and true, "Pretend it's a lollipop." 

Buffy obliged. 

"Ouch! Okay, stop pretending that." Angelus winced in pain and wondered if this was truly how it was supposed to be. Naked Angelus plus naked Buffy plus privacy equalled...disaster? Well, he had always said he wanted to have sex with Buffy. It was his own fault for not emphasizing that he wanted it to be *good* sex. 

Buffy gave up and perched on the bed, shoulders drooping. "Did I do something wrong, Angel? I'm sorry. I guess I'm too inexperienced for you." 

"No, that isn't the problem." Inexperienced was the best time to catch them, assuming they were trainable. "Why don't we try something else for a while." All wasn't lost yet. As he joined her on the bed, Angelus' desperately working mind seized onto one activity Buffy couldn't possibly screw up: kissing. 

There, that was better. Too bad they couldn't just stay like that all night, but the goal had always been to move on to the main event and Angelus could never be accused of chickening out. Besides, if he and Buffy didn't make love, Spike was sure to somehow find out and would never let him hear the end of it. 

Thinking of which, it was time to speed up the process. With some effort, Angelus achieved separation from Buffy's suctioning lips. "Relax," he urged her. "And remember, whatever hurts you hurts me, too." 'Unfortunately. Damn this chip!' Because of the thing, he definitely had to proceed gently--in other words, in unfamiliar, and therefore exceedingly dangerous, territory. Best to get it over with. On that thought, Angelus began moving. 

Down, down...neck...bad place to pause, debilitating memories of not being able to bite it, best to keep going...breasts....bad again, couldn't bite them, either...maybe just nibble a little... ow! Another bad idea...down again...hmmm, maybe he could convince Buffy to get her belly button pierced...would she go for it...? ...a little bit further...there he was. 

Angelus had barely settled down between Buffy's thighs when she grabbed his hair with both hands and practically yanked him back up her body. "Angel, I can't wait any longer. I need you now!" 

Someone had been reading too many Harlequin romances, but he could work that to his advantage. Angelus positioned himself and sank into Buffy's hot, wet depths. His eyes instantly rolled back in his head. Considering the way the evening had started, he hadn't expected much. He certainly deserved a pleasant surprise, though. 

Since violence was out of the question, steady, firm thrusts would have to do. Angelus set up a rhythm, pistoning his hips against Buffy. He was almost impossibly hard, and knew he wouldn't last long. As a tidal wave of sensation made its way up his spine, Angelus found himself on the verge and tried to hold back, make it last longer, but he couldn't. With a snarl he exploded, changing into game face at the same moment. Some small corner of his mind remembered not to try to bite down and Angelus quickly brought himself back under control, returning to his human guise as he collapsed atop Buffy, wonderfully sated. As soon as his muscles recovered enough strength to obey him, he rolled away to lie beside her. 

Well, that hadn't been too horrible after all, Angelus decided. True, his endurance was down, so obviously some of his control had slipped away during his dormancy. Still, that fact worked to his advantage. It had made him more reserved and careful; probably made him seem more Angel-like in Buffy's eyes. And really, aside from the problem of not being able to bite, being with Buffy had felt good. *Really* good. If it was like this now, just wait until he got the chip out. 

Wait. Why was he thinking long-term? He and Buffy were mortal enemies. The Slayer was around merely to be toyed with and then killed. It was her purpose. 

Beside him, the object of his thoughts re-inserted herself into the situation by clearing her throat. "Um, Angel? I didn't...Do you think you could...?" She slowly turned brick-red. 

Angelus considered. He supposed he could be generous, especially given the fact that it was in his best interests to keep Buffy on his side at least until he got the chip removed. He slithered back down her body, past that tempting neck and the belly button he still had designs on, and set himself to work. 

"That feels so good," Buffy's annoyingly breathy moans informed him. 

_'Damn, what am I doing right_?' Oh, wait, he *wanted* to make her glowingly content before yanking the rug out from under her, which meant he wasn't being an inadequate demon after all. Pleasing Buffy was part of his master plan. In fact, it would work even better if he applied a little more tongue. 

Sure enough, soon Buffy began gasping and writhing under him like an anaconda, which was fine for her but not so much fun for the poor vampire caught in her clutches. Reminding himself of his plan, Angelus retained his composure and persevered, until Buffy made a strangled noise that sounded comfortingly close to a death cry. The second her legs relaxed their deathgrip around his head, Angelus extricated himself and scooted a safe distance away. True, he didn't have to breathe, but claustrophobia had become a real concern there towards the end. 

Buffy took a few moments to catch her breath before she crawled close to him. "Angel? It is still you, right?" she said in a tentative voice. 

"I guarantee you, I am not completely happy," Angelus hedged. 

Buffy smiled. "So you're not going to change?" 

"Not a chance. What you see is what you get." 

"Everything's perfect, then. I can't believe how wonderful it is. Just being with you is more than I ever thought I would have again, so you don't know the full extent of what this means to me." 

Maybe if he pretended to be sleeping, she'd shut up. Angelus promptly closed his eyes. 

"Angel?" Buffy nudged his shoulder. "You're still awake, right?" 

Angelus bit back an instinctive, ungracious reply as he reluctantly looked at her again. "Of course, Buffy. What's on your mind?" 

"I have a confession to make. I hope you won't think I'm stupid or weak or anything for feeling this way. I tried not to, but I couldn't help it. Only it's so embarrassing to admit to it." 

_'This ought to be good_,' Angelus thought. "I promise I won't laugh." _'Out loud, anyway_.' 

Buffy heaved a deep breath. "Okay, well, when I learned that you and Cordelia were working together in Los Angeles, I was really worried. Oh, all right, I admit it--I wasn't just worried, I was green with jealousy. I was terrified you would fall for Cordelia and forget all about me." 

Angelus snorted. "You *must* be joking. Me, forget you and fall in love with that self-centered airhead whose greatest interest is which shade of nail polish looks best on her?" 

"I thought you and Cordelia are friends." 

Good point. Angelus quickly backtracked. "Sure we are." 

"From the way you just talked about her, it doesn't sound like it." 

"You know Cordelia. She has her good points and her bad points. But let me assure you, once and for all, I could never feel the way about her that I do about you. There simply is no comparison to the degree of emotion. Fate has brought the two of us together. But Cordelia is totally different. In fact, she's like a sister to me." Angelus privately added, _'And remember what I *did* to my/Angel's sister. Mmmm, mmmm. Delicious. Tender and delicate, with quite the piquant flavor.'_

__

Apparently *not* remembering, Buffy squirmed into a comfortable position, shut her eyes, and whispered, "Quote some poetry to me before I go to sleep?" 

Poetry? Oh, yes, that frivolous sap his better half had actually *enjoyed* pumping into his feeble brain. Of course, not all of the stuff was mind-rotting. Angelus thought and came up with one of his favorite inspirational passages: "'A devil is behind here, who doth cleave us thus cruelly, unto the falchion's edge putting again each one of all this ream, when we have gone around the doleful road.'" 

Buffy's eyes flew open and she raised her head to stare at him. "Where did that come from?" 

"'Dante's Inferno.'" 

"Huh?" 

"Never mind. Just go to sleep." Angelus pushed Buffy's head back onto his shoulder. With any luck, when she woke up she would have forgotten his little slip. 

"I guess I should have paid more attention in literature class. Oh, well." She yawned and obediently drifted off to sleep. 

It took longer for Angelus to find rest. He was worried about himself. He was supposed to use Buffy and then kill her. No doubts, no hesitation. Yet tonight he hadn't once seriously fantasized about killing her. Why? Could he actually be going soft? Turning even the tiniest bit (*shudder*) good? Could he come up with any possible explanation for his uncharacteristic behavior that would allow him to salvage his prized evil demonhood? 

Maybe. Just maybe. After all, realistically, any vampire having sex for the first time in three hundred or so years (counting Angel's time in hell) would probably feel extremely good and therefore distracted from his usual demonic pursuits, no matter who his partner. He'd just been temporarily thrown off balance. He'd be back to his normal homicidal self by morning. He had to be. 

***** 

The next morning when Buffy woke up, Angel was sleeping soundly. At least, Buffy assumed he was. The whole "not-breathing" issue made it hard to tell. But he didn't so much as stir when she slipped out of bed, so it seemed a safe bet. Best of all, he obviously hadn't gone evil again. If Angelus had reemerged, it was true that he couldn't attack her but he could definitely exercise mental torture and some of the other vicious skills at which he excelled. Instead, he was the same wonderful Angel he had been the day before. 

It was barely dawn, far too early to wake him. After all, Angel was used to sleeping most of the day. Buffy crept about as quietly as possible, taking a shower, getting dressed, and fixing breakfast from the supplies she'd brought with her the night before. 

It was still early when she finished eating and she found herself at loose ends. She didn't have to go to class, didn't feel like studying, wasn't tired, didn't want to wake Angel, and couldn't think of anything in particular she wanted to do. So Buffy decided to explore the mansion a bit. She began by poking around the kitchen, checking to see if Angel was running low on blood. He turned out to have a pretty good stock, along with a surprising amount of food. Hot sauce? Chicken wings? She'd never known he liked those items. 

She allowed the refrigerator door to swing shut and left the kitchen. Where to next? How about a few of the rooms on the second floors? She'd only peeked in them on occasion, so they might contain something interesting. 

The first room held several shelves of books. Volumes by Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Shakespeare with bookmarks inserted were stacked at the front, indicating they had recently been read. What about that poem Angel had mentioned last night? What had he called it? "Dante's Inferno"? Buffy scanned the titles but couldn't find that one. She'd have to ask Angel to show it to her later. 

Old books weren't all that fascinating, so Buffy soon moved on to the next room. It also appeared to be used fairly often, since a TV set and a VCR were tucked away in a corner. She hadn't even known Angel owned a TV. If she got really bored, she could watch something later. 

The room appeared to contain nothing else of interest, but as Buffy turned to leave her foot bumped into a hard object hidden under the bed. She knelt down and tugged it out to see a box containing a row of unmarked videotapes. A torn label in unfamiliar writing read "Passion." It sounded like...well, it sounded like porn. Buffy's mind immediately filled in the blank with potential titles. "Hidden Passion"? "Carnal Passion"? "Demonic Passion"? What kind of porn tapes would a vampire watch, anyway? 

She was afraid to find out, but at the same time she *had* to know. Buffy turned on the TV and VCR, selected the end tape, and inserted it into the machine. As the video began to play, she frowned. It seemed familiar, and was very un-pornlike. She was sure she even recognized some of the performers. Then the opening theme music started, and Buffy identified the contents of the tape. It was the soap opera her mom liked--"Passions." Buffy reexamined the label. It actually did say "Passions" instead of "Passion," only the final "s" was obscured. 

Buffy let out a huge sigh of relief. Her overactive imagination had made her picture something really awful, but it turned out Angel was just a closet soap fan. He'd probably hidden the tapes because he was afraid she'd laugh at him if she knew the truth. Well, she wouldn't mention her discovery. Carefully, Buffy returned each item to its original position and left the room as she had found it. She then continued down the hall but found nothing more of interest. In fact, most of the rooms appeared not to have been touched in months or years. 

She was about to give up her explorations and go back to bed when her keen hearing picked up a series of noises from outside the house. Scrape. Rustle. Snap. The sounds stopped, then started again. Someone, or something, was there. It might just be an animal. On the other hand, maybe the intruder was another demon trying to attack Angel. She had to check it out. 

Buffy tiptoed downstairs and let herself out the back door, close to the last place she had heard the creature. Outside, the noises were magnified. Around the corner, branches rustled and twigs snapped. Taking a calculated risk, Buffy rushed forward and pounced. 

"Ah!" Her captive let out a startled cry as she pinned him against the house. 

It was a human, and he wore an Initiative uniform. Buffy eased her hold but didn't release it. "Who are you and what are you--?" 

"Buffy?" 

It was Riley's voice. Buffy let go and stepped back, allowing Riley to turn to face her. "I don't believe this. What are you doing here?" 

"I... demon hunting?" 

The combination of his hesitant answer and failure to look her in the eyes told Buffy all she needed to know. "I'm only going to say this once: Leave Angel alone. Haven't you done enough to him already? Actually, more than enough." 

Riley scowled and checked his watch. "Buffy, it's 7 a.m. What are you doing at his house at this time of day?" 

Buffy crossed her arms. "What do you think?" 

"I think we were dating for months, I treated you right and I loved you, but the minute this vampire trots back into town, it's goodbye, Riley, hello, undead lover." 

"So because you're jealous, you thought you'd sneak up on him while he's sleeping, not to mention helpless, and do what? Stake him? Perform more experiments on him?" 

Riley shook his head. "You don't understand. Your judgement is clouded." 

Those lines were really getting old. Buffy cut the dialogue short with a determined, "I'm not listening to a word you have to say. And I told you to leave. Now do it." 

"Buffy, please, listen to me." Riley stepped toward her. 

"I don't want to hear it." She stood firm, waiting for him to give up. 

Finally relenting, Riley turned and slunk away. Buffy stayed in place until he was out of sight and she heard the distant sound of an engine starting and a vehicle moving away. Then she moved back toward the door. Now that Riley knew she was at the mansion protecting Angel, he probably wouldn't come back anytime soon. 

God, Riley was being a pain. Buffy sank down on the back steps and propped her chin in her hands. What to do about him and the Initiative? She no longer trusted their work or their methods, and she still had to worry about them going after Angel again. It was best to discuss the situation with him, she decided. Together, they would think of a solution. 

Heartened, Buffy started to stand up when she noticed a cigarette butt lying in the dirt at the foot of the steps. In fact, two more butts lay within a few feet of that one. They all looked relatively clean, at least as far as cigarettes went, showing no trace of mud from the rain of two days ago. They couldn't be Riley's, since he didn't smoke. Neither did Buffy, any of her friends, or Angel. So who was leaving fresh cigarette butts around his home? 

Angel's voice sounded from inside the house behind her. "Buffy, what are you doing?" 

"Nothing," she quickly replied. "Just thinking." For some reason she couldn't explain, she didn't mention the cigarettes as she joined Angel. 

***** 

Angelus was in the living room of the mansion drinking some of the human blood Spike had thoughtfully procured for him under duress when he heard Buffy approaching. Thinking quickly, he snatched up the volume of Wordworth's poetry he had placed on the table as a prop. 

Good move. Buffy's eyes went right to it when she entered the room. "Angel, you can finish reading that book later, right? I thought we could patrol tonight since I skipped last night. I don't want to miss two days in a row." 

"Good idea. Let's do that." As soon as Buffy turned her back, Angelus dropped the book like it was coated in holy water. Or full of sentimental crap, which it definitely was. One thing he liked about Buffy, she surrounded herself with violence. 

The two selected their stakes and set out on patrol, encountering and dusting an unusually small number of vampires. As much as possible, Angelus studied Buffy's technique. The better acquainted he was with her fighting style, the easier it would be to defeat her in their inevitable rematch. Of course, the main reason she'd taken him down the other time was because Spike had softened him up first, but more careful preparation couldn't hurt. He could admit it; she was a tough opponent and he would have to work to take her down. 

Naturally, Angelus had to keep himself in fighting form and continue to trick Buffy, so he also took on his share of opponents. Disappointingly, though, none came close to even his sparring standards. He probably ought to start practicing with Spike, get in some useful workouts that way. 

He and Buffy worked their way through the last cemetery on their route and paused. They hadn't encountered a single vampire in the place. 

"Where are they all hiding?" Buffy demanded. "There should be a lot more around. They always get brave right after I take a night off." She scanned the area and then gasped. "I know! I bet they got smart and some of them broke into the crypts to hide. We're going to have to search all of them." 

Angelus shrugged. "All right." It was a good chance to seek out more violence, and who knew, maybe Buffy was right. 

They split up, with each taking one side of the graveyard. At first, it seemed like Buffy had been mistaken. Most of the crypts were sealed shut, and the few accessible ones were deserted. Angelus had circled to the far end of the cemetery before he encountered success. Inside the Alcott crypt, sprawled out on the floor with an empty bottle of bourbon at his side, lay a very familiar vampire: Spike. 

"Damn." Angelus had wondered where Spike had been spending his time away from the mansion, and now he had at least a partial answer. Well, he had to make sure Buffy didn't find out Spike was in town. She'd be sure to stake him if she knew. He also had to be careful that Buffy didn't spot them together, which meant he had to wake the drunken vampire and warn him. 

"Spike!" Not sure how close Buffy might be, Angelus knelt beside him and hissed. "Wake up!" 

Spike cracked open an eyelid. "Oh. It's you." The eye instantly closed again. 

"Spike!" Angelus grabbed his shoulder and shook--hard. "Buffy's here." 

"So, keep her away from me. I'm trying to rest." Spike didn't even bother to open his eyes that time. 

Angelus bristled. Being a lackey was beneath his dignity, but he needed Spike's help too much to argue with him. "Fine." He whirled and prepared to stalk away. 

"Hey, wait!" Spike called from behind him. "Got some news for you, if you wanna hear it now. It's 'bout the Initiative." 

Angelus' ears pricked up and he crossed to the door, peeking outside to make sure Buffy wasn't nearby. Satisfied, he returned to Spike and leaned against a coffin. "Do tell. Make it quick, though." 

"I found Maggie Walsh last night. She's the leader of the pack, it seems. Also turns out she's a psychology professor at UC Sunnydale, and the Slayer's one of her students. And this is the big one. Remember the night we went looking for the Slayer at the college and didn't find her but did see Riley Finn talking to a woman? That was Walsh." 

Finally able to put a face to the name, Angelus growled. He wouldn't forget that bitch anytime soon. Calming himself with a concerted effort, he mused, "Well, well. Matters just get worse and worse...for them. Incidentally, Buffy told me she caught Finn lurking around the mansion this morning. It seems I'm still a target." 

"Take out Walsh and her stun guns and none of us'll be," Spike offered on a yawn. 

"Monday night. We'll move first chance as soon as the weekend is over," Angelus instructed. He couldn't just sit around and wait for his enemies to fall on his fangs. It was time to attack. 

***** 

It took his finest acting, but Angelus managed to make it through the entire weekend with Buffy none the wiser about his true identity. Monday was the day he had been waiting for. That night, if all went well, he and Spike would capture Maggie Walsh and force her to reveal the secret to safely removing the chip from Angelus' head. First, though, he had to take care of another little problem: Buffy, and her totally understandable (he could be very charming when he chose to be) but inconvenient (he had other plans) desire to spend time with him. 

Buffy had loaded up her travel bag and was halfway out the front door when she dropped the piece of unwelcome news. Namely, the statement, "I'll see you tonight, Angel." 

Which would ruin all of Angelus' beautifully wicked plans. "No, don't come over." 

"Huh?" Buffy turned toward him. "Why not?" 

"Well, you've been here all weekend, you haven't seen or talked to your friends in days, you're probably behind on your schoolwork, and I'm sure Giles would like a status report." None of which seemed to convince Buffy, so Angelus hauled out the big guns and played on her emotions. "I think you should talk to your mother again and try to make up with her. It would make me feel much better if you did. I can't help feeling guilty that you two argued in the first place." 

"You shouldn't." Buffy stepped back inside and hugged him, reassuring, "Our fight wasn't your fault." 

"Rationally, I know that, but I feel bad anyway," Angelus lied. 

"All right, if that's what you want, I'll give it a try." 

"Thank you. I'll rest easier with that knowledge." Angelus kissed Buffy goodbye and ushered her away, then went off to get plenty of rest in preparation for the evening's festivities. 

***** 

As scheduled, Spike showed up at the mansion just after dusk. On the plus side, he wasn't drunk. On the minus side, he was puffing away on a cigarette, which he threw aside as Angelus stepped outside to join him. 

"Get rid of the butt," Angelus ordered. "And while I'm at it, stop smoking here. If Buffy catches on that you're hanging around, we could both be dust before we know what hit us." 

Spike glowered but retrieved the cigarette butt and shoved it into his pocket. "Fine, I'll litter somewhere else instead. You got the game plan arranged?" 

"Good to see that you remember I've always been the brains of the operation." Disappointingly, Spike didn't even react to that little gibe, so Angelus moved on. "Well, the person we want is Maggie Walsh. After we grab her, we'll bring her back here. It's the only reasonably safe place where we can conduct our little interrogation. I don't think it'll take very long. She'll probably break down and cry like a baby within minutes." 

Spike glanced back at the mansion. "What about the Slayer? She isn't still hanging around waiting to ruin our fun, is she?" 

"No. I strongly encouraged her to visit with her friends and also to try to make up with her mother tonight. If that encounter doesn't result in disaster, I miss my guess. I figure Buffy's out of our hair until at least tomorrow. You have an idea where to find Walsh, right?" 

Spike nodded. "I know some of her schedule. We should be able to locate her without a problem. Picking her up might be more difficult. She's usually prancing around giving orders to everyone in sight." 

"We'll find a way to single her out," Angelus declared. After all, he and Spike were expert hunters, and Walsh was a mere ordinary human. "Come on, let's get in the car. You can give me directions." 

Following Spike's instructions, Angelus drove first to the college (no Walsh), then to her apartment (still no luck), and finally to a quiet area near the woods on the east side of town. He stowed the Plymouth near a patch of bushes and followed Spike through the trees to a large clearing that contained a small building. The vampires paused safely out of sight, crouching low and observing the two familiar humans who were visible in the brilliant moonlight. They had hit pay dirt. 

Spike nodded toward the duo. "So, Walsh and Finn are together. What is this, a group rate, two for the price of one?" 

Angelus grinned. "We might as well take what's on offer, huh, Spike? I hadn't planned on getting both of them, but since they've so obligingly displayed themselves, it would be cruel of us not to take them up on their invitation. We'd better wait a bit until we're sure they're alone, though. Wouldn't want anyone potentially escaping or calling for help, would we?" He studied their enemies. Walsh was unarmed, while Riley toted one of the standard Initiative weapons. They should pose no significant threat. 

As they observed, Riley began to move away from his companion. Walsh placed a detaining hand on his arm and leaned toward him, gazing deeply into his eyes while she spoke. 

Spike nudged Angelus. "Hey, looking at them, d'you think--" 

"*Don't* say it. Don't even think it," Angelus warned. 

"Right, then." 

They continued watching and soon saw a golden opportunity to pounce as Walsh and Finn set off together along a winding path through the woods. Spike and Angelus exchanged glances, not needing to say a word, before they set off in pursuit. Once they were a safe distance away from the clearing, Spike darted into the woods beside the path and began to gain ground on their prey. Angelus, meanwhile, lurked behind in the shadows until he judged Spike was in position. He then deliberately snapped a tree branch, the noise resounding like a gunshot. Walsh and Finn whirled, scanning the darkness for any sign of danger. It was an easy matter for Spike to skulk around behind Riley and knock him over the head with one well-placed blow. Having first taken care of the more formidable opponent, Spike then turned on a stunned Maggie Walsh. 

"I don't know who you are--" she began. 

Spike wasted no time in punching her out, too. Angelus trotted up from out of the shadows and grabbed Riley's carcass. "Good job. Wish I could have done it myself. Come on, let's load them in the car before we're spotted." 

He and Spike lugged the bodies to the Plymouth, pitched them in the trunk, and were on their way again. As far as Angelus could tell, the operation had gone perfectly. They had achieved their objective and no one had seen them. The fun part would start as soon as they got home. 

  
TBC 


	16. Demon Revenge 7: Torture

_Last time: Angelus and Spike kidnapped Maggie Walsh and Riley. _

*****

Buffy had called her friends for a special meeting at Giles' apartment. The easy part was getting them there. The hard part was telling them why she had wanted to meet. She hadn't yet thought of an actual good way to do it so she simply plunged right in. "I bet you're all wondering what I wanted to tell you. Well, it's simple. Angel and I are back together. As in--*together*." She hoped to God they would understand so she wouldn't have to elaborate. 

Fortunately, most of the gang caught on immediately. Giles and Willow chorused, "Buffy!" in wildly disparate tones. Giles' was shocked and disapproving, while Willow's was more surprised and pleased. Anya merely nodded and looked disinterested, while Tara blushed and remained silent. 

Of the entire group, Xander was the only one who looked confused. "Huh? What are you talking about?" 

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Geez, Xander, do I have to draw you a picture?" 

"I've tried doing that with him," Anya volunteered. "It does help." 

"What?" Xander looked from one girl to the other. "You mean... you and Angel are...? Oh, no!" He clapped his hands over his eyes. "Please tell me it isn't true!" 

"I'm afraid Buffy has already told us it is," Giles informed him. "I must say, I am extremely disappointed, Buffy. Exactly how much thought did you put into the matter? Surely you remember what happened the last time Angel lost his soul?" 

"Of course she does," Willow defended. "This decision wasn't an easy one for her. She even told me how she felt about--" She broke off and looked away. 

As usual, Giles caught the slip-up. "Willow, you knew about this situation beforehand but didn't mention it to me?" 

She entwined her fingers and explained, "I figured it was like a private thing between Buffy and me. Plus, she didn't actually say what she was going to do. So it wasn't like I *knew* knew, I just kinda suspected in a really vague way that she might get back together with Angel." 

Giles shook his head. "I am very disappointed in you, Willow, but much more so in you, Buffy. I had no idea you had grown so close to Angel again, even while knowing the potential consequences of such actions. You are responsible for so many other lives besides your own, yet you behaved quite recklessly." 

Buffy looked at the group. She wasn't getting much support there. Tara acted like she was afraid to open her mouth, Anya simply didn't care, Xander was disgusted, and Giles had already shot down Willow's attempt to help. No, things were not going well at all. Buffy turned back to Giles. "I know you don't understand my decision but I put a lot of thought into it. Angel hasn't turned back into Angelus, I don't regret our relationship, and you can't make me feel guilty. Let me know when you want to talk instead of yell at me." Having delivered her speech, Buffy held her head high and hurried out of Giles' apartment. As soon as she stepped outside, though, she leaned against the wall and drew in a few shuddering breaths. Okay, so they *had* made her feel guilty. But she wasn't about to give in to the disapproval. She and Angel were meant to be together, and they had found a way. 

Still, the negative reactions weren't what she'd been looking for. Buffy's depression deepened when she realized the evening had been disastrous enough already and she hadn't gone to see her mother yet. Angel had been very insistent that she do so. Since the matter was so important to him, she had to do it. Buffy set her shoulders and turned for home. 

***** 

Angelus and Spike were in their element. They had two worthy prisoners and a little dungeon in the basement of the mansion that was perfectly suited for their purposes. Humming a merry little depressing tune, Spike chained Riley and Maggie side by side against the wall while Angelus collected the batch of torture implements and wheeled them inside on a cart. The two had barely finished their tasks when Maggie began to stir. 

Angelus stalked over to her. "Hello, Maggie. May I call you that? I feel like we know each other. And if you don't feel the same way now, you will by morning." 

She stared at him. "You're Hostile 28." Her eyes flickered over to Spike. "And you're the one who attacked us." Then her gaze fell on Riley, shackled unconscious next to her, and she reached over to feel for a pulse. 

"Don't worry, Finn isn't dead yet, but soon he'll wish he was," Angelus generously explained. 

Maggie glared. "If you release us now, your punishment will be much less severe than it would otherwise be." 

Spike swaggered over, clutching a drill. "Want me to get started?" 

Angelus shook his head. "Not yet. I want to have a little chat with my new friend Maggie first." He leaned close to whisper in her ear. "Now, Maggie, we have to talk. You did something very bad to me, and you're probably feeling pretty sorry about that right about now. That's good. Unfortunately, it doesn't change the situation. I'm still stuck with this pesky little chip in my head and we both know it doesn't belong there. So, what I want from you is quite simple. I want you to tell me how to safely remove it." 

Maggie held herself as far from Angelus as the chains would allow. "Never! I don't care what you or your henchman do to me. I'll never set an animal like you free to kill innocent people again." 

"That's too bad." Angelus stepped back. "All right, then, if you'll just wait in here and think about things, Spike and I will be back in a bit to start the next phase." 

The vampires left the room, shutting and locking the door behind them. Once they had retreated upstairs, Spike looked at Angelus. "Now what?" 

Angelus grabbed the copy of "History of Punishment and Torture" he had stolen from Waldenbooks. He'd proceeded as far as "Cell Hells of the Middle Ages" and was eager to read on while Buffy wasn't around to see. "Now, we wait." 

So they waited. But as minute after minute ticked by, Spike grew increasingly restless. He began to pace and shoot dirty looks at Angelus, who ignored them. Finally, Spike burst out, "Well, how much longer is it gonna be? I want to kill something *now*." 

"Give it another 20 minutes," Angelus replied without looking up from a fascinating passage about corporal punishment. 

Spike continued to pace and fume, but Angelus held firm and it was indeed a full 20 minutes before he set aside his book and rose. Spike led the way to the basement with rapid strides, muttering, "She's *got* to be sweating blood by now." 

Angelus sighed. "If only." 

The sight that greeted them when they returned to the cell was not what they had hoped for. Maggie Walsh was trying to rouse an unmoving Riley, stroking his hair and murmuring to him. As her captors approached, she gently released Riley and moved away from him. 

"So, did you think over our little problem?" Angelus asked. 

Maggie didn't reply. 

"Good. I'd hate for you to give in so quickly. We haven't had any fun yet. Spike." Angelus turned and pointed out a gleaming dagger at the end of the table. "Bring over that instrument, why don't you?" 

As Spike did so, Maggie stated, "It doesn't matter what you do to me. I won't talk." 

"I guess we're in trouble, then," Angelus agreed. "Because we all know Riley doesn't have the information I need. You're possibly the only person who can give it to me. Right?" 

"That will never happen." 

"We'll see about that. Come on, Spike." Angelus summoned the other vampire up next to him. "Here's where I want you to start cutting." He pointed at Maggie's stomach; then his finger moved in Riley's direction, and ended up indicating his face. "Start with the right cheek. Carve something pretty." 

Maggie gasped. "Why are you touching Riley? He doesn't know anything and he's still unconscious." 

"Like that matters to us?" Angelus nodded to Spike. "Go ahead, get to work." 

Spike stepped up to the shackled figure and lightly dragged the dagger over Riley's forehead, then down the side of the face. "How 'bout I start with a flower? That sound good?" 

"Perfect." Angelus settled back to watch the show. 

As Spike drew back and prepared to make the first incision, Maggie cried, "No, wait! Don't hurt him. We can make a deal." 

"Hold on a second, Spike," Angelus ordered. He strolled over to Maggie and inquired, "What do you have in mind?" 

"I'll tell you what you want to know. *After* you release Riley, unharmed." 

"Give us a minute to talk it over." Angelus pulled Spike into the hallway, out of hearing range. "Matters have become more interesting. You think she'll tell the truth if I agree?" 

Spike considered. "Could be. She has quite a thing for Finn, you know." 

Angelus grimaced. "An image I did not need, thank you very much, Spike." 

"We're vampires. We've done worse. Hell, we've imagined worse." 

"Than Maggie Walsh and Riley Finn _in flagrante delicto_?" Angelus shook his head. "That's a tough one to top, even for us, so we're going to move on and not speak of it again. Regarding Finn, we're going to let him go. He's still unconscious, he doesn't know who grabbed him in the first place, and if we get rid of him quickly enough, he still won't know. The best part is that we can always take our time and hunt him down again later." 

Spike shrugged. "I guess." 

Having agreed, they went back into the room, where Angelus announced, "It's your lucky day, Maggie. I accept your terms. We release Riley, and you tell me how to get rid of the chip." 

***** 

Buffy tentatively tapped on the front door of her mother's house. In all honesty, she almost hoped her mom wouldn't answer. It would simplify matters so much if she could just leave and go back to her dorm room...except there, she would have to face Willow again. Not a pleasant thought. After the earlier confrontation with her friends, Buffy didn't want to see any of them again for at least another day. She was so averse to that possibility that she found herself hoping she could make up with Mom, if only so she could stay at the house for the night. 

Just as Buffy was about to knock again, the door opened and Joyce, dressed in a bathrobe, looked out at her. "Buffy." She spoke in a flat, uninviting tone. 

Great start. "Hi, Mom," Buffy replied in a more neutral voice, not sure how to begin the conversation. 

They remained staring at each other for several seconds before Joyce asked, "Well, what brings you here?" 

"I thought we could talk." 

"About?" 

"A few things." Buffy shifted from foot to foot. "Angel, I guess." 

If anything, Joyce's expression turned even less welcoming. "Do you know, Buffy, this weekend I started thinking I might have been a little harsh with you during our discussion on Friday, so I called your dorm room to talk to you and Willow told me you weren't there. She tried to cover up, but it was obvious where you were spending your time--with Angel, despite knowing my feelings about that evil vampire who threatened my life. I have to put this bluntly, Buffy: You are not welcome in this house until you come to your senses." She began to close the door. 

"Wait!" Buffy blurted. Joyce stopped, but kept her hand on the door. Buffy hurried on. "Mom, do you remember what happened the other time you said something like that to me? When I told you I was the Slayer and you said if I left the house I shouldn't come back?" 

Joyce nodded. "Yes, I do remember. That time, I made a mistake and I know it. This time, the mistake would be listening to you. Buffy, I can't welcome you back into my house until you acknowledge that monster for what he is. It's as simple as that." Joyce stepped back and firmly shut the door in her daughter's face. 

Buffy listened as the lock clicked into place. It was then that she realized she'd spent the entire conversation standing on the porch while her mother remained inside the house. 

Well, she'd tried. That was all Angel had asked for, wasn't it? 

Thoughts of Angel naturally led to thoughts of where she could spend the night. She couldn't stay with her mother, that much was obvious. The dorm was also out, for equally compelling reasons. That left Angel's place. Buffy was sure he wouldn't mind if she came over, especially when he heard about her horrible evening. That was the solution; she'd patrol first, then go over to the mansion to stay the remainder of the night with Angel. 

***** 

"Spike." Angelus nodded toward Riley's limp body. "Why don't you move our friend out to the car and drop him off somewhere safe? When you come back, Maggie here'll tell us the secret to taking care of the chip." 

"Sure." As Spike moved to unlock the chains, he "accidentally" whacked Riley's head against the wall. "Whoops. Guess he won't be waking up anytime soon." 

"Wait a minute," Maggie protested. "How can I be sure you'll release Riley? For all I know, you might just move him to another room and continue to hold him prisoner." 

"Now, Maggie, you have my word. Isn't that good enough for you?" 

"I want to see you bring Riley to a safe location and leave him there unharmed before I tell you even one thing." 

"You have to complicate matters, don't you?" Angelus thought the matter over. "All right, we'll haul you along. This has clearly become a group activity." 

Swiftly, he and Spike transported their prisoners all the way upstairs and outside to the car. Then, Angelus began to drive in a random direction while Spike sat in the backseat beside Maggie, with Riley lying across the floor. 

"Where do we dump him?" Angelus mused. "Park? Sewer?" 

"No! He could be attacked and even killed if you leave him in the open," Maggie protested. "He has a friend who lives in an apartment nearby. If you turn right at the next corner, we'll almost be there." 

Angelus turned left onto a dark street. "Sorry, Maggie. I don't trust anyone who calls Riley a friend. We'll have to come up with another idea. Spike?" 

"How 'bout there?" Spike indicated the only house on the block that still had a light on inside. "Dump him on the steps, knock on the door, take off, and watch from a distance till whoever's home opens the door and finds the body. Good?" 

"Good." Angelus drove past the house and stopped near the end of the block, pulling the Plymouth over to the curb. After checking to make sure the house was within sight, he hauled the unconscious body out of the backseat. "Spike, stay in the car with Maggie and let her watch, but make sure she doesn't try to get out. I'll take care of Riley." 

Keeping to the shadows, Angelus slunk toward the house. It proved an easy task to dump Riley on the steps, ring the doorbell, and escape. Angelus then watched from a safe distance until a middle-aged man appeared at the front door. It looked like Riley would live another night, but that was all right. He wouldn't be around much longer. Satisfied that all had gone well, Angelus returned to the car. "There, done. Now we can go back to the mansion and hear Maggie's side of the story, like we agreed." 

Without incident, they returned to the mansion and brought Maggie back to the basement, where Spike again chained her to the wall. 

The prisoner shook her chains and shifted uneasily. "Is this really necessary? We have a bargain." 

"Indeed we do." Angelus leaned close to her. "How about you finally fulfill your end of it? Start talking." 

Maggie took a deep breath. "Very well. To disable the chip, you must make an incision in the upper left side of the brain." She indicated the spot on Angelus' head. "Right about there. After the incision is made, the top of the chip will be visible. In the middle on the top, if you look closely, you will see a tiny knob. This knob must be pushed all the way to the left and then it will be safe to very carefully remove the chip and discard of it." 

"That's it?" The explanation seemed almost disappointingly simple, which instantly made Angelus suspicious. 

"That's it," Maggie confirmed. 

"If you're sure, then." Angelus turned to Spike. "Time to move on to the next phase. We need to take care of Maggie." 

Her voice rose in alarm. "What do you mean? What are you going to do to me?" 

"Torture you, of course," Angelus clarified. "Don't pretend to be surprised. We're vampires. It's what we do." 

"But I told you what you wanted to know." 

"And you thought that was it and we'd...what? Let you go afterwards? Or kill you quickly and cleanly? No such luck. Isn't that a pity?" Angelus moved over to the torture table and studied a few of the more vicious-looking implements. "Spike, while I'm making the selections, you might start by breaking each of the fingers on her left hand." 

Spike complied, and the entertaining background noises cheered Angelus immensely. He just wished he could perform some of the torture himself, but being present during the session was the next best thing. He turned away from the table with his first choice of weapon--a perfectly honed dagger. Maggie was slumped against the wall, gasping in pain, sweat beading her forehead. The enthralling sight did Angelus' little black heart good. 

"Here you go, Spike." He presented the tool. "You were going to carve a design on Riley's face. Do it on Maggie's instead." Angelus stood back and watched while Spike painstakingly dragged the blade along the woman's cheek, etching the outline of a rose. "Very nice. Clear away some of the blood so I can get a better look." 

Spike obediently licked it away as Angelus observed approvingly. "Very nice indeed. Excellent job. Hey! Maggie!" 

His sharp tone attracted her attention and she cracked open her eyes. 

"That's better. Maggie, are you sure you told the truth about the chip before? You want to revise your story?" 

"No," she moaned. 

Angelus shrugged. "Fine with me." He tossed Spike a cigarette lighter. "Be careful you don't set yourself on fire." 

For another few minutes, the entertainment value of watching Maggie Walsh attain some nasty-looking burns satisfied Angelus. Then he decided to move on and chose a fresh knife for the next round. "Here, Spike." He handed over the instrument. "Some cuts would be good. Stomach area." 

Spike followed those instructions and also used the riding crop, but Angelus frowned as he examined the handiwork. The whip marks were crooked, the gouges too shallow and poorly spaced. After a promising start, Spike had obviously lost his concentration. 

When he turned around to accept his next implement, Angelus instead grabbed his arm and pulled him into the hallway. "Spike, you're doing an embarrassingly clumsy job. What is wrong with you?" 

"Nothing," Spike muttered. "Just wondering what's the point of this exercise, is all. Bint's already told us what we want to know. Why not finish her off and have it over with?" 

"Because the torture is *fun*. It's part of what we unlive for!" 

Spike shrugged. "You, maybe. I'd as soon go take a nap." 

Angelus shook his head. Sometimes he couldn't believe he and Spike were related. "Look, you have to work with me. I don't know if we can trust Maggie. She's quite cunning and clever as humans go, and she might well have lied about the chip. I want to see if a bit of torture makes her change her story." 

"Oh, okay, if there's a purpose to it, then." Though clearly not into the scene, Spike dutifully trotted back into the room and resumed his work. 

By that point, Maggie was semi-conscious and bleeding copiously. Angelus felt his fangs elongating as he struggled to restrain himself from "helping" Spike. A sharp pain shot through his head as the chip reacted to his evil thoughts. Much as Angelus wanted to stay, the blood lust was making it impossible. He slowly stepped back, edging toward the door. "Spike, I have to go upstairs. Keep working. But whatever else you do, *don't* kill her." 

Leaving Maggie and Spike to the remainder of the torture session, Angelus reluctantly went upstairs and stretched out on the couch. The chip was still twitching, sending little sparks of agony throughout his head. Angelus tried to trick it by picturing sickeningly sweet images, like fields of wildflowers and cookie-baking grandmas and newborn puppies. Over and over, until the painful spasms died down and the chip was mollified. He could hardly wait until the damn thing was out of his head. Once he was sure he knew the secret to its safe removal, he'd probably make Spike hack it out the very next second. But not until he knew. Chances were high that Maggie Walsh couldn't be trusted. 

He had considered the matter from every angle before Spike stalked into the room, a sullen expression plastered on his face. Angelus bolted upright. "What are you doing here? Did something go wrong with Maggie?" 

"Nah, Walsh hasn't changed her story yet and it's getting pretty boring down there. How many times can you dig a hole in flesh before it starts to get old? What else do you want me to do to her?" 

"I guess we've gone far enough. We'll have to move on to the fallback plan. I know a way we're guaranteed to learn the truth, straight from Maggie's mouth." 

"What is it, and why didn't we try it before?" 

"Because we had to do the fun part first. Now, it's simple, Spike: You turn Maggie, and as soon as she's playing for our side she'll be more than happy to give up all the Initiative secrets." 

Spike cocked his head. "Not bad. Sounds like it'll work." 

"Of course it will," Angelus said with all due modesty. "I thought of it." 

Deciding he was settled enough to return downstairs, Angelus led the way back to the basement. However, the sight that greeted him and Spike provoked twin shouts of horror. 

"How the hell did this happen?" Angelus stared in dismay at the terrible image of Maggie Walsh hanging against the wall, dead. She had strangled herself with her own chains. Angelus turned on Spike with a snarl. "I can't believe you were stupid enough to leave that much slack in the chains. Not to mention leaving her alone so she could off herself." 

Spike snarled right back. "It's your own fault for not telling me what you had in mind. If I'd known the game plan, I wouldn't have left her to go find you and ask your intentions." 

They were at an impasse. The vampires glowered at each other until a more pressing situation drew their attention. They heard footsteps overhead. Familiar footsteps. Buffy footsteps, that were coming closer with every second. 

Spike groaned. "I thought you got rid of the Slayer for the night." 

"So did I." Angelus winced. "Her timing just gets worse and worse. Whatever else happens, Buffy can't find us here like this." As her footsteps drew closer, he thought swiftly. He and Spike were stuck in a very vulnerable position, trapped in the basement with the dead body of the tortured Initiative leader chained to the wall. "Spike, stay here," Angelus ordered. "I'll keep Buffy away if possible, but I'll have to lock you in just in case she tries to snoop." 

Giving Spike no chance to form the protest he surely intended, Angelus darted out of the room, slammed the door, and locked it. Then he strode over to the foot of the stairs to intercept Buffy, who had wandered dangerously close. She looked upset (which was good) and curious (which was not so good). Angelus pinned a fake innocent expression on his face as he greeted her. "Buffy, what a surprise to see you. I thought you were visiting with your mother and your friends tonight?" 

"Been there, done that, didn't want to extend the experience." She sniffed the air. "Is that blood I smell? Are you hurt?" 

"I'm fine. I decided to store some blood down here because it's so cool and I accidentally spilled a few bags." 

Buffy started to edge around him. "I can help you clean it up." 

"It's already taken care of." Angelus grabbed her arm and firmly steered her back upstairs. "What happened with your mother and friends? Anything bad?" he asked optimistically. 

"Yeah." Buffy slumped down on the couch, where Angelus joined her. "Everything bad. It could hardly have gone worse. I told the gang about you and me being back together and the reaction was pretty negative. Giles was so disappointed in me." She bit her lip and visibly steadied herself before going on. "So then I went to see Mom and she totally shut me out. In fact, she said I can't go home again unless I dump you. Which isn't going to happen. I can't let my mom run my life for me. When is she going to realize I'm an adult and I can make my own decisions?" 

"So, basically you're estranged from everyone except me?" 

Buffy nodded. "For the foreseeable future, anyway. I didn't have anywhere else to go tonight so I came back here. I didn't think you'd mind." 

"No, of course not." Not when she came bearing such bad news. "I honestly didn't things would go so poorly." Beyond even his wildest dreams. "After all, what kind of mother would turn away her only child in such a cold manner?" Angelus shook his head. "Humans can be so cruel to each other." 

Buffy looked so depressed at that observation, it boosted Angelus' mood even higher. She was alienated from her friends and family, thus fulfilling one of his primary goals. All he had left to do was to keep her dependent on him, get the chip taken care of, and then choose his moment to pounce. Angelus carefully selected the sappily comforting words he was sure the soul would have recited at such a trying moment. "There, there. You still have me, remember, and I'm not going anywhere." 

*** 

The night from hell had taken an upswing. Buffy scooted over and leaned her head against Angel's shoulder. As long as he was with her, she'd manage. He'd promised not to leave this time and she believed him. She relaxed as Angel gently stroked the pulse point on her neck. Yes, she thought, nothing could tear her and Angel apart now. Except...a niggling doubt worked its way into Buffy's mind. Giles had raised the most troubling aspect of their relationship, the one that had bothered Buffy herself the most. What if Angel somehow turned back into Angelus? She had to admit, Giles and the others had legitimate concerns in that area. 

Much as she tried to dismiss the thought from her brain, it refused to leave. Finally, Buffy forced herself to speak. "Angel?" 

"Hmmm?" 

"You aren't anywhere close to being perfectly happy, right?" 

His hand paused in its soothing motion. "I can safely say 'no' to that." 

"Oh. Good. I mean, not good in the sense that I don't want you to be happy, but good in the sense that you can't be happy or bad things will happen. Which, of course, you know as well as me and even if that particular bad thing did happen it would still be chipped like you and couldn't do any real damage." Buffy stopped and took a deep breath. "God, I'm making an idiot out of myself babbling like this. It must be because I'm tired. Sorry. Shutting up now." 

"It's all right," Angel reassured her. "You had a long, hard day. I understand completely. Anyway, it's natural to worry." 

Buffy twisted her head around to look up at him. "Are *you* worried about something?" 

"I'm just concerned that my plans for our future won't work out." 

The future. Right. Although Buffy rarely dwelled on it, the fact remained that her life expectancy was pretty damn short. What kind of future could Angel possibly be talking about? He'd live forever, and realistically, she could be dead tomorrow or the next day. 

Well, she wouldn't point out the obvious flaw in his reasoning. It would only depress Angel, and Buffy didn't want to do that. Ever since his return, he'd been a little different than he used to be. Moodier, more prone to unexpected changes in temper. Occasionally, he seemed excessively angry or impatient, but those episodes always passed quickly and he returned to his usual quiet self. Then there were the moments when he appeared to be lost in thought about very unpleasant matters, to judge from the look on his face. Buffy supposed at times like those Angel was thinking about his friend Doyle, who had passed away recently. She knew he partially blamed himself for Doyle's death, although it hadn't really been his fault. Angel blamed himself for a lot of things that weren't his fault. His experiences in Los Angeles had definitely taken their toll on him, but he'd also worked toward redemption there. His time away had changed him, but it hadn't all been bad. 

"Buffy." Angel nudged her out of her reverie. "You still with me?" 

"Yeah, just thinking." She stifled a yawn. "What is it?" 

"I was wondering what you're planning to do. I mean, since you're having so many problems with your friends I can't imagine you'd want to stay on campus with Willow any longer." 

Buffy sighed. "No, not really. But it's not like I have much of a choice. I mean, if I'm going to keep going to college, I pretty much *have* to live on campus. Commuting takes too long and I already have so many demands on my time. I figure I can ask for a new roommate tomorrow and see what happens. And if worst comes to worst, I can try to get along with Willow. It's just that I can't help wondering if she and the others were right. Is being with you selfish of me?" 

Angel slowly eased away and turned her around to face him. "Buffy, listen to me. I don't want you to let anyone make you feel guilty. Not your mother, not Giles, not Xander or Willow or anyone else. They can never fully understand what the life of a Slayer is like. The pressures you undergo and the decisions you're forced to make are like nothing any of them will ever experience. You have to be stronger than they could even imagine being. You need to stand up for yourself and what you believe in. A long time ago, you told me that was us. Do you still believe that?" 

"Yes." Buffy nodded. "I do." 

"It's settled, then, isn't it?" 

As Angel's lips descended upon hers and he pressed her back against the couch cushions, Buffy's last rational thought was that maybe she wasn't so tired after all. 

*****   
  
The high-pitched beeping of an alarm clock woke both Buffy and Angelus in the morning, not so many hours after they had fallen asleep. With a groan, Buffy reached over to silence the wretched noise and began to struggle off the bed. Before she could escape, Angelus flipped over and pinned her down. 

She squirmed against him. "What are you doing, Angel? I have to get ready for school." 

"Surely you have a few minutes to spare." He was positive he knew a way around her half-hearted protest. 

"Not really. It takes a while to get there, and... well, maybe," Buffy amended as Angelus began to nuzzle her throat. "Okay, I guess I do. It's not like I'm going to remember anything from the lectures anyway. Yeah, right there, that feels good... so good." 

Having her right where he wanted her, Angelus extended his exploration to Buffy's neck, thinking ahead to the time when he would again be able to bite it. A good, visible mark should be placed right about... there, where he was currently licking. Perfect. He'd remember that spot down the road. Tentatively, he tested to see if he could already bite down when his intent was merely to mark. The responsive stinging pain informed him that the answer was a definite no. Even the mildest, most innocent nip seemed to be out of the question. Too bad. He'd only been able to mark Buffy once before, and that had been so long ago. 

Buffy's slightly impatient voice reminded him they were on a schedule. "Angel, this is nice and all, but can you maybe hurry it up a little?" 

That was certainly an insulting comment, but Angelus swallowed his annoyance. He knew Buffy was serious about leaving and she wouldn't allow him much time. At least they were both already naked, which saved precious seconds. Refusing to be hurried too much, Angelus shifted position and leisurely slid home, setting a moderate pace. But he had time for only a few slow thrusts before Buffy's hands began clawing at his back. Angelus sped up his pumping, realizing he'd have to make this faster than he had thought. Thankfully, with his increase in speed Buffy relaxed her grip, though her moans continued to urge him on. With one last thrust Angelus felt himself coming and reached down to help nudge Buffy over the edge with him. They lay in a dazed heap for a few quiet moments before she stirred and pushed at his shoulders. 

"I have to get up, Angel. I'm going to be really late if I don't hurry." 

He reluctantly rolled away and collapsed against the pillows, a temporarily satisfied demon. With one eye slit open, Angelus watched Buffy scramble around the room, scooping up clothes, books, papers, and other odds and ends. As she shoved the things into her gym bag, she informed him, "I'm going to take a quick shower and then get going, so I'll say goodbye now. Remember, I might not be back to see you until tonight because I have such a full day today." She ran over and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Bye!" 

Angelus made a mental note of that important scheduling information and took a short, much-needed nap while Buffy was in the shower. After he heard her dress and leave, he forced himself to get up. Though more sleep would have been welcome, he, too, had a busy day ahead. Releasing Spike from the basement was an unpleasant, if necessary, first step. 

Sure enough, Angelus was faced with one pissed-off, disheveled-looking vampire when he got around to unlocking the basement door. 

Spike scowled at him as he shoved his way outside. "Sure took your time remembering me, didn't you?" 

"I let you out as soon as I safely could, Spike," Angelus informed him. 

"Yeah, well, doesn't seem like a fair trade to me. While you were upstairs shagging the Slayer half the night, I was stuck in the torture chamber from hell with a body half full of stale blood. Next time, we oughta trade places." 

The words had barely left his mouth before Angelus reflexively vamped out and slammed Spike into the wall, pinning him into place. "Don't even joke about that, Spike. The Slayer's mine." 

Spike cast his eyes downward. "Okay, fine, no argument here. So, what do we do now?" 

Since Spike had backed down without any effort at a fight, Angelus eased up. "Me. Chip. Head. Time to get it out. And then, we play...." 

***** 

As Buffy anticipated, Angel made her late for class. Not that she was complaining. The dry history lecture was nearly unbearable on the best of days, which this one was probably not fated to be, and any good excuse to miss even a few minutes of it was more than welcome. As matters stood, she narrowly avoided falling asleep midway through and had rarely been more grateful to have a class end. The second the professor dismissed his students, she bolted for the door. 

It was time to check with the office of student life about possibly getting a new roommate. As she cut across campus, though, Buffy almost walked straight into her current roommate. 

Both girls stopped short, with Willow recovering enough to speak first. "Buffy. Hi." 

"Hi," Buffy responded. "Um. Well. Gee, this is so uncomfortable." 

Willow nodded. "Total agreement here. Look, about last night, I feel pretty bad. I mean, in a way I'm happy for you and Angel, but then again, Giles wasn't so happy and I understand his reasoning. But you're my friend and I don't want you to feel like I'm ganging up with the others against you. It isn't that, it's more like I'm concerned about you. We all are. Sure, if Angelus came back he couldn't do anything bad physically but his mind games were always one of the most dangerous things about him. None of us wants to go through any of that again and it would be harder on you than on anyone else." 

"I totally understand that you're all concerned about me," Buffy agreed. "But it isn't going to change my mind. I'm with Angel and that's that. Don't worry, though, I'm not going to ask you to choose sides. I know that isn't fair. So I think it's best if we establish a little distance. I'm going to try to get a new roommate for the rest of the year and that should take a lot of pressure off both of us." 

Willow couldn't help looking both relieved and guilty. "So that's that, then?" 

"Yep. Okay?" 

"I guess. I'll see you around, though?" 

"Sure. I'll still patrol and all that." Despite her best efforts, Buffy was barely managing to hold herself together and she began to edge away from Willow before she could fall apart. "I guess that's it for now." 

"Yeah, right." Willow stood there awkwardly, then burst out, "Oh, Buffy, wait. Did you hear the news about Riley?" 

Buffy turned back to her, curiosity piqued. "What about him? Does he have a new girlfriend?" She sincerely hoped so. It might make life easier for her and Angel if Riley had a fresh distraction. 

Willow shook her head. "No, this is serious. He was attacked last night when he was out with Professor Walsh. He got hit over the head and dumped at some stranger's house. Professor Walsh is still missing." 

"Wow. That's awful. Is Riley going to be all right? Do they know who did it?" 

"He has a concussion but he should be fine. From what I heard, they were in the woods and heard a noise, then that's all Riley remembered when he woke up in the hospital. He's lucky he didn't get killed." 

"Yeah. That is so weird. Do you think a demon was involved in the attack?" 

"Riley's injury didn't sound demony," Willow clarified. "Just a regular ol' clock on the head, and not a bite mark to be seen. Besides, why would a demon let him go? It would have killed him without a second thought." 

"Good point. Well, thanks for letting me know." With the mental distraction provided by Willow's news, Buffy was able to bid her friend farewell more easily than she would have thought possible. It seemed her schedule had become even more crowded. Somehow, she had to cram in a visit to Riley. The mysterious attack on him and Maggie Walsh had raised a red flag. 

*****

Spike gave Angelus a look full of skepticism. "Sure you want to risk removing the chip already? We have no way of telling if Walsh was lying. Maybe we can still find another Initiative figure who knows the truth." 

Angelus shook his head. "I've waited too long already. I want this chip taken care of today. No delays, no excuses, no hesitation. And you, Spike, are instrumental in my plan. Here's what I need you to do: Go out through the sewers, grab hold of any vampire you can find who used to be a doctor, and beg, borrow, or steal all the human blood you can get your hands on. Make it quick. We have to pull this off before Buffy comes back." 

"Not likely," Spike stated flatly. "Slayer could be back any second, for all you know. She could walk in right in the middle of the set-up." 

"I've thought about that possibility," Angelus informed him. "She has a long day at school, multiple personal problems courtesy of me, and a commute on top of that. Don't look for her before this evening, if all goes badly." 

"Ha!" Spike scoffed. "That gives us, what, maybe a whole 12 hours to pull all the factors together, get that chip dug out of you, and get you recovered to the point where the Slayer doesn't know what we were up to? Not gonna happen." 

"We're wasting time as we stand here and argue," Angelus pointed out. "You're right, we have no chance at this rate. So get moving." Refusing to take no for an answer, he ushered Spike outside and prepared himself for a wait. 

***** 

Meanwhile, Buffy had carved enough time out of her crowded schedule to pay a visit to Riley at the hospital, where he was being held for a day or so for observation. 

"Hey!" Riley's face lit up when he recognized his visitor and he tossed aside the copy of "Country Living" he'd been reading. "Buffy, it's great to see you." 

"Hi, Riley." Buffy pulled an uncomfortable orange chair near the side of his bed and sat down. "I heard about what happened to you and Professor Walsh and I wanted to tell you how sorry I am." 

"Yeah, well." Riley pointed to the big white bandage on his head. "Concussion. I'll be okay. It's Professor Walsh I'm worried about. Anything could have happened to her by now." 

"What exactly did happen, Riley? I've heard secondhand accounts, but I'd like to get the story straight from you." 

"Not much to tell, really," he admitted. "Professor Walsh and I were at one of the Initiative stations on the east side of town near Witland Cemetery, we decided to patrol a little, and we heard this noise behind us like a tree branch snapping, so something was definitely out there. We turned around to check it out and I don't remember anything else till I woke up here in the hospital. I didn't see a thing that could help the police. It was too dark and it happened too fast." 

"Not a mugging?" Buffy asked, hoping it had been. Only in Sunnydale was the possibility of a mugging a relatively pleasant option. 

"Not a mugging." Riley pointed to his wrist. "My watch wasn't stolen. In fact, nothing on me was taken. Not that I was carrying much, but it wasn't touched." 

Buffy thought out loud. "If it wasn't a mugging, it may have been personal, like someone wanted Professor Walsh for a reason. Because they let you go and kept her." 

"Not just let me go," Riley reminded her. "We were attacked in the middle of the woods. Whoever did it brought me to some guy's house on Linden Street. He said he was up late, he heard the doorbell, so he looked on the porch and there I was with no one else in sight. Weird, huh?" 

"Yeah. Too weird," Buffy agreed. "I really don't like the sound of this." 

Riley leaned toward her. "You want to know what I think? I'm sure a demon was behind it all." 

***** 

As Buffy was growing ever more curious about Maggie Walsh's abduction, an oblivious Angelus and Spike were back at the mansion basement, preparing for surgery. 

Angelus studied the quivering minion Spike had selected to perform the operation. "Are you *sure* this thing used to be a doctor?" The pathetic creature was so terrified, he wouldn't even open his mouth in Angelus' presence. The reaction was simultaneously flattering and troublesome. 

"Hey, he was the best I could do on short notice," Spike defended himself. "You try going outside during the day, creeping through sewer tunnels, trying to lay low while on a strict schedule with two incredibly difficult tasks to perform, and see how well it turns out for you. I'm betting not especially. Doc Roger'll do. And if he doesn't, I get to demolish him. Either way, I win." 

Angelus grumbled but gave in without further argument. Begging vamps couldn't be choosy vamps. "Let's get on with it. Hand me some blood first. I want to be as strong as possible before we start." 

Spike passed over a heavy bag of AB negative. "Drink up. Plenty more where that came from." 

Angelus drained the first bag and reached out for another one. "Tell me again what has to be done so I know you remembered." 

"Incision, left side of head." Spike indicated the spot for the doctor vampire's benefit. "Chip should be right there, knob's on the top, push the knob to the left, remove chip. Nightmare over. Ready?" 

Angelus frowned, deep in thought as he finished his second blood bag and positioned himself flat on his back on the makeshift operating table. He didn't like what he was hearing. True, Spike had parroted the instructions Maggie Walsh had given, but something about them didn't ring true. "Wait, Spike," he ordered. "That's wrong. I think Walsh lied. When you see the top of the chip, push it to the right instead of the left." 

Spike raised a brow. "You sure? Taking an awfully big risk there." 

"Listen to me. I think I'm right." 

Spike looked at the doctor. "You heard him. Oh, by the way, Angelus, if for some reason anything goes wrong and you wind up a vamp vegetable or worse, I want to set your mind at rest. I'll be sure to take care of the Slayer for you so your efforts won't have been in vain." 

A low growl rose from Angelus' chest "You won't do anything to Buffy without my approval." 

"Sure, but if you aren't around I don't need to worry about getting it, do I." Spike stood back and motioned for the doctor to make his first incision. 

As the scalpel sliced into his head, Angelus forced himself to remain still. He had a lot riding on the outcome of this operation. Actually, not just a lot. More like his entire future as a vicious, blood-sucking creature of the night with a reputation to live down to. Besides which, he had to pull through if only so he could finish the job he had begun with Buffy. If he didn't do it, Spike had professed himself more than willing to take up the reins. And the way Angelus saw it, Spike was veering dangerously close to becoming a liability. 

*****

Finished with classes for the day, Buffy slowly headed back to Willow's dorm room. It was one of the last places she wanted to be, but she didn't have much of a choice. Arriving outside, she tapped on the closed door. 

She heard the sound of the lock turning and then Willow opened the door. "Buffy. Hi. Did you lose your key?" 

"No, I still have it. I just didn't think I should walk in on you without knocking after everything that's happened." 

Willow stepped back, allowing Buffy to enter the room. "Did you come here to move your stuff out? Not that I want to rush you or anything. I'm just curious, 'cause you said you were going to see about getting a new room." 

"Actually, there's kind of been a snag in that whole operation. I asked about changing roommates and everyone else is all matched up. I could get a private room but that would cost a lot more than I'm paying now and there's no way I can afford it. So the only other thing to do is try to find someone else who wants to switch and exchange with her, only that could take a long time even if it works out. Meanwhile, I'd have to stay here." 

"Buffy, you know that's all right," Willow assured her. "I never wanted things to get so bad in the first place." 

"Okay, well, it probably won't be for too long." Unsure of what else to say, Buffy turned away and grabbed her overnight bag. She'd already told Angel she'd be returning to the mansion that night, which meant she wouldn't have to hang around the dorm feeling awkward again until at least the following evening. 

"Oh, before I forget." Willow called her back to attention and handed Buffy a torn scrap of paper. "Cordelia called a couple of hours ago. She said she's been trying to get in touch with Angel and hasn't been able to so she decided to try you instead. She wants you to call her back." 

"Right. Lovely. Might as well get that out of the way." Buffy dialed the number and waited. 

"Angel Investigations," Cordelia answered in a professional tone of voice. 

"Hi, Cordelia, it's Buffy." 

The polite veneer stripped away, Cordelia snapped, "It's about time. Do you have any idea how much trouble I've had getting through to you and Angel?" 

"Is something wrong?" Buffy interjected. 

"You mean, aside from the fact that Angel left me and Wesley high and dry to try to run the business that bears *his* name? And you know what adds insult to injury? Angel hasn't even bothered to phone us in I don't remember how long, and whenever I try to call his cell phone I can't get through. How can he not know how to work the thing? It isn't *that* complicated. It was even like pulling teeth to get in touch with you. I mean, I called your house first and your mom--let's just say 'frigid' did not begin to describe her reaction. So she said to call Angel if I was looking for you, which of course has been impossible, which I told her, and then she said to try the dorm, which I also did only you weren't there either, and I had to wait until now for you to bother to call me back." 

Cordelia paused for breath, and Buffy seized the opportunity to get a few words in. "Look, do you have a message I can pass on to Angel?" 

"Did you just hear *nothing* I said?" Cordelia sighed loudly. "Right, have him call me back. We have a lot to talk about." 

"Okay, goodbye." Buffy quickly replaced the receiver. It was the same old Cordelia, all right. She looked at Willow, who raised an eyebrow. "I definitely have to see Angel. I should give him Cordelia's message, plus I need to talk to him about the attack on Riley and Professor Walsh." Buffy swiftly packed her overnight bag and departed for the mansion. 

***** 

The chip was out, but something was terribly wrong. Hours after the operation's conclusion, Angelus remained in pain. Great waves of it washed over him, originating in his head and sweeping all the way down to his toes. He forced his eyes open as Spike returned to the room to check on him. "Did that idiot do the job right?" 

"Guess so," Spike offered. "Went straight for the chip, turned it the way you said, popped it out. No wrong moves that I could see. Why?" 

"I don't feel right." Angelus held onto the edge of the table to ground himself. 

"You shouldn't have told me to dust that minion right after the operation," Spike chided. "Sure, he can't run and tell anyone what he witnessed, but he also can't help you." 

Angelus ignored those useless words. He had a feeling he was beyond the aid of a lowly minion. "Get me more blood. Lots of it." 

Spike handed over a bag and helped Angelus prop himself up to drink it. Even after three bags, though, Angelus felt only slightly better. "That Walsh bitch must have had some sort of kicker built in just in case I figured out how to remove the chip. If she was still alive, I'd eviscerate her on the spot." 

"You'd be too weak," Spike pointed out. "You can barely hold yourself up." 

Angelus scowled. Spike was right, but he couldn't afford to be laid up for long. It could ruin all of his careful planning. "It's past sunset," he realized through the haze of pain. "You have to leave, Spike. Buffy could come back at any minute." 

"Leave you in this condition?" 

"That's what I said, isn't it? Now help me upstairs. You can go right after that. I don't want to see you again until tomorrow night. With a little luck, I can use Buffy to get me fixed up and I'll be recovered enough for us to go out hunting then." 

Spike shrugged and helped haul Angelus into the living room to settle down on the couch. "Don't say I didn't warn you." Upon that cheerful line, he was gone. 

For the next half-hour, Angelus lay still and tried to regain some strength. However, it was a losing proposition and he was quite relieved when he heard the front door open, signaling Buffy's arrival. Time to kick his newest plot into gear. He was counting on her to save him. 

"Angel?" she called. "Where are you?" 

"The couch," he answered. 

Her footsteps approached and then Buffy appeared before him. "Hi, Angel. How was your day?" Just after speaking, she got her first good look at him, and her eyes widened. "You look awful. What happened? Were you attacked again?" 

"No, nothing like that. I drank some blood and started to feel unsteady, so I decided to lie down but I keep feeling worse." 

"What could have caused this?" 

Angelus certainly couldn't tell the truth, so he had to invent a plausible excuse for his extreme weakness. What came out of his mouth was, "I think I drank tainted blood. Animal isn't always the best quality." 

Buffy cocked her head. "I thought vampires were pretty much immune to sickness?" 

"Most kinds. But not all. Remember the time I was poisoned?" 

"Yeah." Buffy knelt by his side. "Do you think that happened again?" 

"Not poison, but it's something bad." 

"Should I get you more blood? I can try Willy's." 

She was sure to get him that shitty pig stuff. Or possibly cow, unless he protested. "I don't trust animal blood now," Angelus informed Buffy. "If a local supply has been contaminated, it could just make me worse." 

"Human, then," she offered. "I know Willy stocks human blood. I'll make him send some over. Where's your cell phone? I'll call him." 

"Drawer." Angelus pointed. He'd been hoping Buffy would offer up some of her own blood, but she hadn't even seemed to think of the idea. Well, he'd slowly but surely maneuver her around to his way of thinking. 

He watched as Buffy crossed the room and pulled the cell phone out of the indicated location. "Why do you have it turned off? No wonder Cordelia couldn't reach you." 

"I don't like cell phones." Angelus failed to add the fact that he simply had no interest in talking to Cordelia, one of his least favorite people *ever*. He would take great pleasure in eating her when the day arrived. 

Buffy immediately made the call to Willy, threatening him into making a rush delivery of top-quality blood to the mansion. Finished, she turned back to Angelus. "Do you feel up to talking while we're waiting for the blood?" 

"Yeah. It distracts me from the pain a little." 

"Good. I have a lot to report." Buffy settled herself on the leather chair and began. "First, the big news is that Riley and Professor Walsh were attacked last night. Riley was hit on the head and dumped on a stranger's doorstep. He's in the hospital with a concussion but he should recover fine. Professor Walsh is still missing, though. Riley thinks a demon might have been behind the attack. It's possible, because of the Initiative and all, only we can't figure out why whoever it was let Riley go." 

"He didn't see his attacker?" 

Buffy shook her head. "He has no clue who it was. Bur I thought it might tie in with the reason you came to Sunnydale. Remember, you said you heard a rumor about some demons building a secret weapon? Maybe they need Professor Walsh's Initiative knowledge to finish it." 

Considering the fact that the demon-weapon story had been a fabrication, Angelus didn't even have to lie when he informed Buffy, "No connection comes to mind." 

"Well, it was a longshot anyway. Other news. I'm going to have some trouble switching roommates. It's more complicated than I thought so I'll have to stay with Willow for a while yet. But that's not all bad. At least she knows about me being the Slayer and I won't have to make up excuses for her like I always did with my first roommate." 

With an effort, Angelus concealed his disappointment. He'd been counting on separating Buffy from her friends and family so she would be left only with him. If she continued to room with Willow, his job would be more difficult. Nothing he couldn't overcome, though. He listened intently as Buffy went on. 

"Last but not least, Cordelia called me at the dorm. She's not so happy because you haven't been in touch with her for a while. When you're feeling up to it, you should give her a call and straighten things out." Buffy studied Angelus again. "Are you feeling better yet?" 

"Not really." 

"Where is that blood?" Buffy went to open the front door and look outside. "There's a car coming. I bet that's it." 

Angelus listened as the vehicle drew to a stop and Buffy went to greet the driver. A couple of minutes later, she returned with a box of blood bags. 

"Here you go." She handed him one off the top. "I bet this will fix you right up." 

Already pretty confident that it wouldn't, Angelus nonetheless savored the sweet taste of human blood, so much finer than the tasteless animal diet the soul had kept him on. He finished off two bags and lay back. 

Buffy's concerned voice reached his ears. "Did that help?" 

"No. I don't think this blood will do it." 

"Oh." Buffy looked lost. "I don't know what else to do. Except I guess I could call Giles and see if he'll help." 

Time for phase two of his plan. "I know something that might work, but.... No," Angelus stated firmly. "Forget it. It's a bad idea." 

Exactly as he had expected, Buffy grabbed the bait. "What? What is it? You can tell me. I want to know how to help you." 

"No, it isn't fair to you." 

"Angel, you have to tell me what you're thinking about. I can't stand seeing you in pain and if you know something that could help, you can't keep it secret. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you because you thought you couldn't confide in me." 

"When you put it like that, how can I continue to refuse?" Angelus looked at Buffy from under his lashes in a move that had taken much practice, especially since he couldn't see his reflection in the mirror to refine it. "Ordinary human blood obviously isn't strong enough to help me. But Slayer blood probably would be." 

"Oh." Buffy stared at him. "Well, that's logical." 

"Of course, I could never ask that of you," Angelus promptly stated. 

"Yes, you can," Buffy insisted, growing more convinced in the face of his resistance. "I have plenty of blood. I was fine the last time you drank some, and I'll be fine again this time. You're in better shape now so you won't even need to take as much." She rolled up her right sleeve and held her wrist to his face before hesitating. "Wait. Should I get a knife to make the cut?" 

"Since you're willing, the chip probably shouldn't go off," Angelus explained. Wasting no time, he leaned forward and bit down. Perfect. His fangs smoothly sank through the flesh and the powerful Slayer blood flowed into his mouth. He could feel the pain dissolving after only a few gulps. Already, there was no question that he would be healed and ready to hunt by the following evening. 

*****

Angelus was ready and waiting when Spike strode into the mansion the next evening. Spike was obviously more than prepared, too. He had made a concerted effort to hide his identity, by wearing an Oakland A's baseball cap and sunglasses combined with a dark-blue jacket. 

"Great disguise, Spike," Angelus acknowledged while trying to hold back his laughter. 

"Yeah, well, I don't want to be recognized, especially while I'm with you. That would blow all our plans. Speaking of which, you're looking much better today." 

"I'm all set to go out. I managed to convince Buffy to stay on campus for the night to study for some big test tomorrow, so the coast is clear. Tonight's little excursion should prove whether the operation was a complete success. Last night I was able to bite Buffy without any pain, but she was willing. That could make a difference." 

"You fed off of the Slayer again? Save any for me?" 

Spike's tone was light, but Angelus had the uneasy feeling that it contained an underlying seriousness. "I've told you, *boy*, Buffy is mine. Understood?" 

Again, Spike backed down. "Of course it's understood. You've said it before." 

"Good. Now, come on. We're going hunting. Or more precisely, *I* am. Spike, you're my backup. I want to dredge up a nice, non-deserving victim and test myself out on that individual. If for any reason I am unable to perform, it becomes your responsibility to finish off said victim so no human record of my failure exists." 

Spike cleared his throat. "I hate to bring up the subject again, but what if the Slayer happens to turn up here while we're out and decides to come looking for you?" 

"Hmm. Good point. Buff does have an unpleasant habit of dropping by unexpectedly. I'll have to leave her an excruciatingly cute little note that should cover my ass." Angelus located a piece of paper and a pen and scrawled, "Dear Buffy, went patrolling for you tonight. Stay in and study!!! Love, Angel." He critically surveyed the words. "That ought to do it. Or should I draw a little heart on the bottom? ... Nah. That'd be overkill." He propped the note on the mantel and headed for the door. "Oh, and Spike, don't forget the tool kit." 

Spike grabbed the indicated duffle bag and nearly dropped it. "What's in this thing? Weighs enough." 

Angelus grinned. "With a little luck, you'll find out." 

The two vampires set off into the night. 

***** 

From their perch atop the roof of an old hardware store, Angelus and Spike observed the pedestrians on Center Street, a rough neighborhood on the east side of town. The hiding spot was a necessary precaution. Even though Spike was wearing a decent disguise, Angelus wanted to be seen with him as little as possible. Where they were positioned, they could study the passersby with virtually no fear of being spotted themselves. So far, they were having little luck with their search for a suitable victim for Angelus. 

Spike waved at yet another prospect. "That one looks right." 

Angelus eyed the fleshy human stumbling along the dimly lim street. "Too fat. And too drunk. Wouldn't taste very good." 

"How 'bout that one over there, then?" 

"Too skinny. Not much of a meal." 

"That one?" 

"Too old. The blood'll be off." 

Temporarily giving up, Spike scooted back from the edge of the roof and glared at Angelus. "Since when did you become such a picky eater?" 

"I prefer to use the term 'discriminating.' Only the best will do for my first kill in far too long. Look for someone sober and young. But not too young. Say, in her late teens or early 20s." 

With a final hard stare, Spike turned back to the search. Angelus joined him, eyes gliding over and eliminating person after person until he finally zeroed in on the one he wanted. She was perfect. His prospective meal was a young blonde woman with a better than passing resemblance to Buffy. She would be excellent practice. 

Angelus nudged Spike. "Over there. The woman moving to the right, towards the alley." 

They drew back from the edge of the roof and made their way down the fire escape at the side of the building, lithely jumping to the ground. Spike, still toting the "tool kit," dropped behind to allow Angelus to stalk his prey. Not that the task looked like it would require much effort. The woman was strolling along almost aimlessly, not seeming to care that she was alone at night in a town known for numerous violent killings of those who walked unescorted in the dark. Angelus figured her death was only fair; anyone that stupid didn't deserve to live. And she wouldn't. 

He chose his moment to pounce, waiting until the idiot was next to the mouth of the alley before he darted forward and snatched her. In a flash, his fangs were positioned at her throat, piercing the tender flesh and draining away her life. He felt no pain--just sweet triumph and the taste of rushing blood. The meal didn't last long enough, of course, but it was a solid first step. Reluctantly, Angelus withdrew his fangs and allowed the body to drop as he licked his lips, catching up a few stray drops of blood. 

Spike was applauding him. "That was beautiful. Just beautiful. Now we can move on to killing the Slayer." 

"No, it's too soon." 

"Too soon?" Spike stared at him. "What does it take? You know, I'm beginning to think you don't have any intention of killing her. Maybe you went soft while the soul was in control." 

"I have *not* gone soft!" Angelus collected himself, determined not to let Spike's taunts get to him. "I have a plan. Unlike you, I have the intelligence and the patience to think up a good one and follow through on it. And my plan goes something like this: I get the chip out, I wipe out Riley and the rest of the Initiative, and then I take care of Buffy. Which is not to say that I haven't been working on her all along, in subtle yet ultimately devastating ways. I've managed to estrange her from her friends and family and make her increasingly dependent on me as a source of support. When the time comes to take out the Slayer, her downfall will be spectacular." 

"Oh. Well, you could have kept me more in the loop about your progress," Spike muttered. "So are we going after Riley now?" 

"Exactly. According to Buffy, he was set to be released from the hospital today. My best guess is that he's running around madly trying to dig up clues as to the identity of Maggie Walsh's abductor. We should be able to find him somewhere around town. It's just a matter of time." 

Angelus and a subdued Spike set off once more, scanning graveyards for any sign of Riley. On their fifth one, they met with success. A lone human and a blue demon were locked in combat near a large crypt. The human, about to be slaughtered by the demon, pulled out a stun gun and blasted his opponent at close range. 

Spike pointed. "Is that who I think it is?" 

Angelus nodded. "Indeed it is. Riley Finn has fallen right into our laps. All we have to do is stop him from escaping. I think it's best if I approach him. I can distract his attention and disarm him. After that, he'll be helpless and all ours." 

Spike strained his ears. "Now's as good a time as any. I don't hear any other heartbeats, so he must have come out alone." 

"Good." Angelus strode forward, making no effort to hide his approach. Riley had shoved the stunned demon up against the crypt and was evidently attempting to force information out of the creature. He was so absorbed in his efforts that he didn't even notice Angelus' presence until the demon's eyes rolled sideways and alerted him. 

"Stop right there!" Riley lunged for his gun. 

Before he could grasp it, Angelus held up his hands. "Wait! I have a message from Buffy." 

Riley hesitated, hand poised over the butt of the gun. "What kind of message?" 

"She caught the demons she thinks were behind the attack on you and Professor Walsh. She sent me to find you." Angelus studied Riley's eyes and could tell the exact second when his rival swallowed the lie. 

"Show me," Riley ordered, moving away from the fallen demon. 

"Gladly." In one smooth motion, Angelus knocked away the gun and grabbed Riley by the throat, pinning him against the crypt. Automatically, his fingers began to tighten around Riley's windpipe. "Don't worry, this isn't going to hurt... me." 

TBC

_Special thanks for Tariq for all the reviews. _


	17. Demon Revenge 8: Visitor

_Last time: Angelus captured Riley and prepared to kill him._

_******_

Angelus' fingers clenched around Riley's throat. Just a little more exertion, and it would all be over... too soon. Far too soon. He eased his grip and allowed the limp body to fall to the ground, alive but unconscious. He wasn't done with Finn yet. Not by a long shot. 

He turned his attention to the blue demon Riley had been harassing. Unluckily for that creature, it was awake and aware of its surroundings. With a casual flick of his wrist, Angelus reached over and snapped the thing's neck. No witnesses; that was his mantra. 

Except, of course, for his partner-in-crime, Spike, who came trotting up beside him. "Nice work. Where do we take him?" 

"To an abandoned lair far away from human hearing. This is going to get loud." 

"I know exactly the place." Spike pointed across the graveyard. "About a half mile up that way there's this deserted house. Used to be occupied by a pair of slime demons, but it suits your purposes." 

"Sounds good." Angelus heaved up Riley's body and toted it to the building at a quick clip. This was one victim he would dearly love to spend days upon days torturing, but time was a luxury he could not afford. He would have to make the few hours he did have count, in spades. 

Upon reaching the old house, Angelus decided that Spike had chosen well. He couldn't sense any humans or other demons within hailing distance. Even the previous occupants of the house had left only a faint trace of their presence. 

Amazingly, the electricity was still turned on. Taking advantage of that convenience, Angelus skulked through the ground floor of the house before he settled on the living room as the best station. He threw Riley's carcass on the floor and turned to Spike. "Equipment?" He accepted the duffle bag, unzipped it, and pulled out his supplies: chains, pliers, a hammer, three whips, a dagger, a handful of darts, a pipe, and various other odds and ends. 

First things first: It would be most efficient to get Riley hooked up to the wall, the better to torture him. With an ease born of long practice, Angelus secured the chains and then imprisoned his enemy. He had a stationary target. Those were rarely much of a challenge, but they made up for that failing in sheer fun. 

Spike approached with the hammer in hand. "Where do you want me to start?" 

Angelus snatched away the weapon. "Stay out of it this time. This one is my kill. It's personal." 

Spike shrugged. "Fine, I'll just settle back and enjoy the show. Let me know if you change your mind." 

He retreated just as Riley began to stir. His eyes flickered open and slowly focused on what must have been the sight of his nightmares: the pissed-off vampire in game face who was waiting to tear him apart. "Angel? Where are we? What are you doing here?" Riley then noticed his chained position. "Oh, shit. I guess I know what you're doing. Well, this is kind of a surprise. I thought you were successfully neutered and out of our hair. Or maybe you still are. Your buddy over there is doing all the dirty work, right?" He nodded toward Spike. 

"I'll give you a clue." Angelus sidled over, grabbed Riley's left wrist, and twisted. Not hard enough to break it, but enough to make Riley gasp and bite his lip. "That tell you anything?" He let go and moved back a pace. 

"You got the chip out," Riley realized. "How'd that happen?" 

"You do remember the disappearance of your dear friend Professor Walsh, don't you?" 

"She would never have given you any information, no matter what you did to her." 

"Are you so sure of that? One night she disappears, a couple nights later I'm magically unchipped. Makes you think, doesn't it, Finn?" 

An expression of doubt flickered over Riley's face. "Whatever she might have told you, I'm sure she didn't give it up easily." 

"Maybe, maybe not. Regardless, I'm here, you're here, and things do not look good for one of us. Any guesses who?" 

Riley heaved an exasperated breath. "Will you stop implying that I'm dumb? I know you're planning to torture and kill me. I've known for a while that you hate me and you're a vicious, remorseless murderer." 

"What, did you forget the soul spiel Buffy must have fed you a hundred times?" 

"No, I've never forgotten it. I just never believed it. I knew you were evil all along but Buffy refused to listen to me." 

"What can I say? It's obvious who she trusts more." Angelus paused to rub in that fact. "I'd let you live and suffer with that knowledge, except for one small detail. I hate your guts. But that's all right, because soon they'll be all over this floor." 

"Buffy will figure things out," Riley shot back. "Once she realizes I'm missing, she won't stop until she traces my death back to you." 

"Buffy is blinded by her love for me. She won't realize a thing I don't want her to." 

"You're underestimating her. I have faith in her ability to get to the truth. And could you make it any more obvious that you're jealous of what she and I had? That's the real reason you've kidnapped me, isn't it? Because of my relationship with Buffy? My special connection with her?" 

As Angelus began to reach for Riley's throat again, Spike's voice sounded from the back of the room. "Can we kill him yet? 'Cause he's really starting to bore me." 

"What's with the henchman?" Riley sneered. "Aren't you a big enough demon to take me out all by yourself, Angel? Oh, wait, I forgot. You had to chain me up first. Real brave and confident, huh? I bet you couldn't beat me one-on-one." 

Angelus snarled. He knew Riley was taunting him in an attempt to buy a way to escape, but the insulting words did sting his pride. On the spur of the moment, he decided to alter his plans. "Fine. I'll set you loose and we can fight this out. I can spare the 30 seconds that should take." 

"What about him?" Riley glanced at Spike. "You have backup even if you lose." 

Without taking his eyes from his opponent, Angelus instructed, "Spike, if by some miracle he manages to beat me, let him go. He'll deserve to be free." He cautiously unlocked the chains, watching for any signs of early attack from Riley. However, Finn played it safe, warily eyeing Spike and making no move to pounce before he was fully released. 

Angelus backed up and took up a fighting stance. "Ready?" 

"Ready." Riley jumped in, delivering the first blow. Angelus was ready for it and parried before striking back himself. 

They traded a flurry of punches and kicks, neither one giving out or taking serious damage in the opening series. Angelus had to admit, for someone who had recently suffered a concussion and been choked into unconsciousness, Finn was putting up a pretty good fight. It would require a little more than 30 seconds to take him out. Sixty should be enough. 

Tiring of the exercise, he blocked a punch, grabbing Riley's hand in the process. A healthy squeeze resulted in the satisfying sound of crushing bones. Riley dropped back in a defensive posture, his pulverized right hand hanging at his side. Beads of sweat broke out over his forehead. 

Angelus shook his head. If he was capable of feeling pity, he might have in that moment. "Why don't you just give up while you're behind, Finn? You know you can't win." 

His answer was a wobbly uppercut that Angelus easily dodged. He allowed Riley to expend his waning energy on a few more feeble blows before he struck back with several well-placed hits and ended with the mangling of Riley's left hand. Finished, Riley staggered and dropped to his knees. 

"What a shame." Angelus crouched down beside him. "That didn't last long at all. Hey! Spike!" he called. "Get over here. I'm going to give you a crash course in how to make lasting impressions with a riding crop, if you'll get it for me. You didn't do so well with Maggie, as I remember." 

Spike handed over the item and raptly watched as Angelus tore off Riley's shirt and tossed it aside. "Hmm. This won't do at all. We need you lying down, Riley." Meeting little resistance, Angelus shoved Riley onto his back. "Now, watch carefully," he instructed Spike. Raising the whip, Angelus brought it whistling down across Riley's chest. "See the angle and amount of force I used? That'll scar. Or, it would if he lived long enough." Angelus demonstrated once more, forcing a pained cry from Riley, before handing the crop to Spike. "You try." He nodded with approval as Spike imitated his actions. "Very good. When you want to do this in the future, you'll have the technique down. 

"What next? Oh, yes, the small knife and making gouges." Angelus accepted the weapon and artistically carved a hole in Riley's right shoulder. "Not too deep but not too shallow. Remember, we're aiming for pain and permanent damage here." Ignoring Riley's feeble struggles, he finished carving up the shoulder and then passed the knife to Spike. "You do the other one." 

"Like this?" Spike showed off his initial effort. 

"Not bad, but a little deeper. Dig it in." 

Spike tried again, with noticeable improvement, and slowly but surely finished up his section. "I'm kind of starting to see why you enjoy this torture business so much," he admitted as he surrendered the knife. "Seeing the results of careful work is rewarding." 

"Only too true. Well, this has been very enjoyable, but all bad things must come to an end. Get the dagger, will you?" While Spike hunted for that weapon, Angelus hauled Riley to a sitting position on the ragged old couch. "That's better. Are you listening, Riley? I'd love to see you die slowly and painfully. But since that's not feasible, I'll have to do the next best thing--make it quick and painful." He accepted the dagger from Spike and waved it in front of Riley's face before reaching down and slashing open his opponent's stomach with two quick strokes. 

With a beautiful gurgling noise, Riley slumped low. Blood was pouring out of him at a fascinating rate, Angelus noted. Which meant his fun was almost over. He might as well get all that he could out of it and make a meal of what was left. He poised his fangs and plunged them into Riley's neck, but after one gulp he pulled back in disgust. 

Spike appeared on Riley's other side. "What's wrong?" 

"Even his blood is bad. I think he's taking drugs. Taste it and see if I'm right." 

Spike took a tentative mouthful, gagged, and spat out the liquid. "Awful. He was on something, all right." 

Angelus shrugged. "Doesn't matter now. Riley Finn will be of no importance to anyone ever again." He glanced at his fallen opponent. Riley's lips were moving even as his heartbeat swiftly faded. What could he be saying? 

Listening closely, Angelus made out the syllables before Riley's heart gave out. "'Buffy.' Finn's dying word. Isn't that touching." He stood and packed up his supplies, only a few of which had actually been used. He'd allowed Riley to goad him into losing his temper and cutting short the session. Still, he'd achieved his ultimate goal. Finn was dead and out of the way for good. Justice had been served. 

***** 

With a loud sigh, Buffy slammed shut her extremely boring history book and shoved the thing aside. She simply was not in the mood to study. 

A chiding "Shhhh!" from the woman behind the desk reminded her that annoying noises were not welcome in the college library. It had seemed like a good idea to study in a neutral place, since Buffy was still uncomfortable being in the dorm room with Willow. And traveling back and forth to the mansion sucked up valuable study time. But given the fact that she wasn't getting much studying done anyway, she might have been better off going there. At least she'd be in a better mood. 

She was just too distracted to pay attention to the dry history facts. So much was going on in her life, most of it bad. The estrangement from her mother and friends, the stress of schoolwork and patrolling, the abduction of Professor Walsh and the attack on Riley, the chip in Angel's head--all of it added up to a hugely problematic life. 

As Buffy sat musing, an idea occurred to her. She hadn't received any cooperation from the Initiative in finding a way to remove Angel's chip. But now that Professor Walsh was missing, she might have some bargaining power. It was possible that if she offered her help to them, they would in turn give her a hand. It was worth a try, anyway. Buffy grabbed her books and hurried out the door, determined to at least make the offer. 

* * *

Buffy struck out for Initiative headquarters, making sure to move openly and keep her empty hands in plain sight. At any minute, she could run into a sentry who was likely to shoot first and ask questions later. 

Sure enough, as she drew near the base, a uniformed guard stepped out of hiding and leveled his weapon at her. Buffy immediately stopped, not wanting to be viewed as a threat. 

"Hands up!" the guard called. "Where I can see them." As Buffy obeyed, he continued, "Who are you and what's your business here?" 

Before she could reply, a familiar voice interjected. "It's all right, Tom. I know her." 

The sentry lowered his gun slightly. "Are you sure?" 

"Yeah, she's a friend of Finn's and Professor Walsh knows her. I'll vouch for her." The man stepped forward, and Buffy was relieved to see that it was Riley's friend Graham. 

"Okay." The guard stepped back as Graham went over to greet Buffy. 

He spoke in a low voice. "Hey, Buffy, what are you doing here? Looking for Riley? He isn't here. I told him to rest after getting that concussion, but I think he went out on patrol somewhere anyway." 

Buffy nodded. She'd suspected as much. "Maybe you can help me, Graham. I heard about Professor Walsh being kidnapped and I thought I might be able to help find her. I need to talk to whoever's in charge. I think we might be able to make a deal." 

"And I'm guessing you won't leave till you talk to someone, right?" Graham glanced around. "I suppose I'd better help you. I can get you into the complex, but I can't guarantee that General Gorman will meet with you, and you have to do what I say and keep quiet when I say. Things are pretty tense around here." After obtaining her agreement, he led Buffy inside, and they boarded the elevator that took them to the main level of the complex. 

"I was a little surprised that guard stopped me so quickly outside," Buffy offered as they stepped out of the elevator. "I know I got pretty close, but I almost expected to be able to come right up to the entrance before anyone did anything." 

"With Professor Walsh missing, outer security has been tightened," Graham replied. "That's why you won't find so many men inside. Most of them are out on patrol or guarding the perimeter. We're really stepping up the work of bagging and tagging demons, too." 

More bad news for Angel. Buffy studied the interior of the complex while trying not to look too obvious. Still, a small group of soldiers down the nearest hallway turned to stare at her. 

"Graham," one of them called. "What's going on?" He shot Buffy a decidedly hostile look. 

"Business," Graham replied briefly, ushering Buffy away. 

As they walked, Buffy continued to both sense and see unfriendly stares directed at her. "What's going on? Why are they looking at me like that?" 

"Buffy, you really can't blame them. We all know about your friendship or whatever it is with one of our chipped vampires. It's like you're consorting with the enemy, you know?" 

"But Angel isn't the enemy. He has a soul and he would never hurt anyone." 

Graham sighed. "I'm sure you believe that, but it's hard to ask any of us to buy that story. We've all seen what vampires do, and it isn't pretty. Add that to the fact that we're worried about what's happened to Professor Walsh, and things are even worse. If something can happen to her, it can happen to any of us." 

"You don't have any leads?" Buffy probed. "Any evidence at all? A ransom note?" 

"Not a clue. All we have is Riley, since he was with the professor at the time of the attack. Only problem is, he was unconscious during the whole thing. We're working on trying to find out who left him on that stranger's doorstep and why, but so far we haven't come up with anything useful." Graham paused, then led Buffy down a deserted hallway to a small, dark room. "I think it's best if you stay away from the others, so you should wait here. I don't think anyone will come this way at this time of night. I'll go see if I can talk to General Gorman, but I have to warn you, I don't think there's a very good chance he'll meet with you. Anyway, I'll try not to take too long." 

After Graham exited, Buffy sat down in the lone chair in the cramped room. Then she waited. And waited. And waited. Still no sign of Graham. Then it struck her--she had the perfect opportunity to explore the place on her own. She'd been suspicious of the Initiative's activities for a while, and she might never get a better chance to uncover some of their secrets. 

Listening intently for signs of Graham's return, Buffy crept out of the room and down the hall. The first two rooms she came to contained nothing of interest. The door of the third room, though, was labeled "Records." Buffy hesitated. She might find important material inside. On the other hand, if she got caught snooping, the odds of her obtaining the Initiative's help would plummet. Of course, those odds weren't too good to begin with. She decided to take a chance; if the door was unlocked, she'd take a look around inside. If it was locked, she'd forget about it. 

Cautiously, Buffy tested the doorknob. Unlocked. She eased the door open and sidled into the room, feeling for the light switch as she went. Illuminated, the room proved to contain numerous filing cabinets and stacks of folders. Which brought up the question of where to begin looking. Finally, Buffy just grabbed a folder from the nearest pile and flipped through it. The papers inside meant nothing to her, being full of abbreviations and jargon Buffy didn't come close to understanding. She gave up on that file and moved on to the next one. More gibberish, a diagram, nonsense. Next folder. More of the same. The next finally contained some text written in plain English, but it merely concerned office supplies. 

About to give up and retreat, Buffy snatched up one last folder and skimmed the contents. As she read, her eyes widened in horror. "...program...destroy chipped demons...total annihilation...torture...new equipment..." The paper was dated three days ago. She had to find out what exactly the Initiative was planning. Buffy reached over to flip the page, when her ears picked up the sound of approaching footsteps. Graham must be coming back! Automatically bringing the folder with her, Buffy darted out of the records office and sped back down the hall toward the room where Graham had left her. Just as she was about to turn the corner, she remembered the file in her hand and paused to tuck it under her jacket. Then she made her way forward again and had her hand of the doorknob of the room when Graham appeared. 

"Buffy, why aren't you waiting inside?" 

Feeling the folder slip against her side, Buffy pinned it into place with her elbow while attempting to look casual. "You were gone for a while, so I decided to look for you to see if everything was all right." 

"You could have gotten lost. I'm glad you didn't get too far. Anyway, I talked to General Gorman." 

"And?" 

"I'm sorry, Buffy." Graham looked away, refusing to meet her eyes. "He's really busy and he doesn't have time to talk to you." 

"In other words, he told you to get rid of me." 

"I wouldn't use that exact phrasing, but you got the gist of it." 

It was pretty much the reaction Buffy had expected, so she let Graham off the hook. "It's all right. Thanks for trying, anyway." 

"Yeah." Looking uncomfortable, Graham finally blurted, "Look, you didn't hear this from me, but I think you should know. Professor Walsh never had any intention of helping you or your vampire friend. As far as she's concerned, the only good demon is a dead demon, and the only useful one is one she's experimented on. General Gorman has the same attitude." 

Buffy nodded. "That's pretty much what I expected, but I had to try. Thanks for telling me." 

"You're welcome. Now, let me get you out of here." 

Buffy didn't know Graham well enough to be able to tell if he was regarding her suspiciously, so she played dumb and obediently trailed him back over to the elevators and out of the complex. She was taking a major risk, hoping the Initiative wouldn't realize too soon that the folder was missing or that she had taken it, but she needed to examine the information more closely. Lost in thought, she nearly walked into Graham's back when he stopped outside. 

"This is as far as I can go. I'm still on duty." 

"I'll be fine," Buffy assured him. 

"Good. Well, I hope things work out for you, Buffy." 

"Thanks, and good luck with finding Professor Walsh." More than ready to make an escape, Buffy edged away. 

"Bye," Graham called. 

Buffy waved with her free arm and left, acutely aware of Graham's eyes on her back. She didn't dare reach over to secure the folder until she was sure she was out of range. Praying it wouldn't fall out at an inopportune moment, Buffy continued to move at a steady pace. She had to look over that information and share it with Angel. 

* * *

The following morning, Angelus was still riding a natural high in the aftermath of Riley's extremely satisfying death scene. He hadn't enjoyed a kill so much in at least two centuries, and quite possibly ever. As a bonus, Riley had died in a vain attempt to protect Buffy, which made him even more pathetically noble. Too bad Buffy hadn't been able to witness the carnage, but she would learn of it sooner or later. Sooner, if Angelus had his way. He'd finally fulfilled two of his primary goals: the dechipping and slaughtering Riley like a pig. That left offing the Initiative, and thinning out Buffy's herd of friends. They might be estranged friends, but they were still friends. Of course, by the time Angelus was finished, she wouldn't have any left. 

Naturally, thoughts of eliminating the Scoobies led to the consideration of who should be first on his list. Xander immediately sprang to mind. He was definitely the most irritating of the lot. Then again, he wasn't much of a threat, either mentally or physically. Leaving him till near the end wouldn't pose any sort of risk. Best to take out a more formidable opponent first, and also one whose death would devastate Buffy. Therefore, Angelus ruled out Anya and Tara, who weren't particularly good friends of Buffy's. That left Willow and Giles. Either would provide an excellent starting point. Willow was Buffy's best friend, she was dabbling in magic, she had restored Angel's soul, and she was clearly deserving of the top honor. Then again, so was Giles. He was like a surrogate father to Buffy, he was highly intelligent, he was skilled in many different areas, and he had deep resources he could draw upon in a battle situation. 

Willow or Giles? Giles or Willow? Either way he went, Buffy would end up blaming herself for the death. Angelus mused over his beautiful dilemma and eventually decided: Giles first. He posed a more substantial threat than Willow and should be the primary target. After he was gone, Angelus could pick off the rest of the group at his leisure. Buffy would never suspect him until it was too late. 

With that important matter decided, Angelus lay back on the couch and relaxed. He really ought to get some sleep while he could, especially since he could take advantage of Spike's brief absence. The peroxide nuisance had left for Los Angeles for a couple of days, partly for a change of pace and partly because the less time he spent in Sunnydale, the less chance he had of being seen and identified. In the relative peace, Angelus closed his eyes and attempted to lull himself to sleep by replaying the wonderful images of Riley's last moments. 

It probably would have worked, too, if a pounding on his front door hadn't jarred Angelus and nearly made him fall off the couch. He swore as he recognized Buffy's knocking, which was accompanied by her voice calling Angel's name. The fact that she had come over in the morning of a day on which she had a big test was disturbing. It could easily mean something had gone wrong with his plan. Quickly, Angelus got up and unlocked the front door, standing back from the stream of sunlight that entered the mansion with his visitor. 

Putting on his most concerned "Angel" voice, he asked, "Buffy, what are you doing here now? Aren't you supposed to be taking a test today?" 

She answered in a distracted manner as she clutched a handful of papers. "The test isn't till this afternoon, and this is more important than cramming. Angel, I've found out something really disturbing that I never would have predicted. We need to talk right away." 

Those words were the ones he had feared. Had Buffy somehow figured out his secret? Or did she know about Professor Walsh, Spike, Riley? Any or all of the above? "I'm sure whatever it is can't be too serious. Calm down and I'll answer any questions you have. We can sort things out together." Refusing to panic, Angelus led Buffy over to the sofa and made her settle down before she started to speak again. 

Relaxing her grip on the crumpled papers, Buffy smoothed them and began her story. "I was in the library last night trying to study, and I just couldn't concentrate. All I could think about was you and the chip and Professor Walsh and the Initiative situation. Remember, I told you before that from the beginning, I had some doubts about the Initiative--their purpose and their techniques. After they captured you and the whole chip thing happened, that proved I couldn't trust them. Killing demons upfront is one thing, but torturing and experimenting on them is in a way different league. Plus, if they were really on my side, they would have helped you and instead, they wouldn't even listen to me. Still, last night I decided to give them one last chance. I went over there to talk to the person who's in charge now about maybe making some sort of deal where I'd try to find information about Professor Walsh in exchange for you getting dechipped. Riley's friend Graham helped me get inside the complex but then General Gorman wouldn't see me. But things kind of worked out, because while I was alone, I found some information about the Initiative's plans to torture and then destroy all chipped demons. A whole folder of stuff." She indicated the papers, which Angelus took and scanned. 

Buffy had brought over quite an impressive array of information about the Initiative, including diagrams, floor plans, and a timetable detailing their intentions. Even at first glance, it looked like a sure treasure trove. "Very helpful," Angelus praised. "Do they know you have this file?" 

"I hope not. I managed to get out of the complex without anyone stopping me and no one has come after me yet. Plus, this stuff is all photocopies, so maybe they're working off of another set of copies and won't even realize this one is missing for a while yet. Until afterwards." 

"After what?" 

"After...." Buffy stopped. "You know what I mean. Don't you? You must see what we have to do. If we don't, they'll use their new tracking equipment to hunt you down and you'll be killed along with the other demons." 

Angelus knew what *he* wanted to do, but he was pretty sure Buffy was thinking on a far less grand scale. "Why don't you tell me what you have in mind, to make sure we're on the same page?" 

She didn't hesitate. "We have to stop them. We have to take the Initiative down before it's too late." 

Despite himself, Angelus was impressed. Buffy was thinking like a demon, and he could appreciate that. It looked like he had an unexpected ally in his quest to destroy his enemies. Ruining the Initiative was the next step in his plan. After that little problem was out of the way, he'd move on to Buffy's band of friends. 

* * *

"I don't get it," Buffy repeated as she paced the length of the living room. "Why would someone kidnap Riley and Professor Walsh, let Riley go, and then kidnap him again?" 

It took a real effort, but Angelus restrained himself from snarling. He was getting pretty pissed off at Buffy's obsession with finding out where Riley was. Ever since she had figured out he was missing, she had spoken of little else: where could Riley be, who had taken him, was he all right, was she doing enough to find him, and still more babble. 

"Worried about Riley, are you?" Angelus snapped, his anger getting the better of him. 

As if she had just remembered he was in the room, Buffy turned around to face him. "Are you jealous? You shouldn't be. You know how it was with us. Riley was a nice guy, most of the time, but he wasn't *you*. I'd be concerned about any missing person, no matter who it was. It's just more disturbing because it's someone I know so well. And I can't help wondering what exactly it means. I do have a theory that might explain things, though. Whoever is behind all of this only wanted Professor Walsh in the first place but she was with Riley at the time, so they both got taken. Then the kidnappers let Riley go. But they must have thought he could identify them or he had some information they needed so they went back for him. It makes sense." 

_'And truth is definitely stranger than fiction,'_ thought Angelus. _'Ah, if Buffy only knew.'_ Luckily, she hadn't yet made the all-important connection between his plotting and the abductions. Not that she hadn't been investigating the latter, but despite her probing, it seemed no one had any useful information to dole out. Not surprising, considering that so far it had been a two-vampire operation and neither Spike nor Angelus had shared with outsiders. Angelus knew he could count on himself to continue to remain silent, but he wasn't so sure about Spike. Bragging had been the downfall of many a powerful vamp in the past, and that mistake could prove to be Spike's undoing, too. Not that Angelus cared so much about his partner's inevitable downfall, but he didn't want to be dragged down along with him. He just had to hope that his frequent lectures had sunk in and Spike would keep his trap shut for a while longer. Seeing that the other vampire had remained out of contact for the past few days and was presumably still out of town, lying low, Angelus felt reasonably confident for the time being. 

Having talked out her theory, Buffy returned to looking distracted. "Maybe I ought to go question Willy again and talk to his customers too. *Someone's* got to know something about a witness, a rumor, a blood trail, anything strange or suspicious. Even a hint of it." 

"You've already talked to Willy and he didn't know a thing," Angelus reminded Buffy, determined to keep her from paying a return visit to the bar. He didn't truly consider that puny human to be a significant threat, but one never knew; Willy had a way of ferreting out tidbits and clues he sometimes shared for the right price. Or the right threat, as the case might be. Just to be safe, Angelus had to keep Buffy close by if possible. 

Not being privy to his thoughts, however, Buffy had begun to look at the door as if she pictured herself departing through it at any second. "Willy could have been lying, or he might have heard something since I was there." 

"Calm down, Buffy." Angelus knew a sure way to keep her from leaving: Lay on a guilt trip. "We have a lot to do and you can't be in two places at once. Here it is, Friday afternoon already, and we still don't have a firm plan to take on the Initiative." 

"You're right." Buffy looked properly ashamed of herself, gazing at the floor and slowly turning red. "Your life is in danger and saving you ought to be my top priority." To Angelus' great relief, Buffy shut up about returning to Willy's and immediately settled down on the couch next to him, where she set herself to work deciphering the Initiative information. 

As she flicked through page after page, Angelus stared at her exposed neck. The expanse of tender flesh reminded him of how hungry he was. He hadn't been hunting in more than 36 hours, he would have a hard time doing so with Buffy around, and he was starving. The lack of fresh human blood in the refrigerator didn't help matters. Biting Buffy was beginning to seem like almost a logical move. It was her fault that he was malnourished, she was the nearest target, and she looked so convenient. 

Torn, Angelus hesitated as two sides of his brain fought a battle. _'Bite her! Bite her!'_ instinct and decades of conditioning screamed at him. Even as Angelus' fangs began to elongate, though, the more rational side of his brain was ordering him to stop. After all, if he offed Buffy now, the payoff wouldn't be nearly enough. He would miss out on her anguish over the upcoming deaths of her pathetic, worthless friends. 

No, he couldn't do it. He'd be tipping his hand way too early. Angelus began to pull his fangs back, then reconsidered. Surely a small nip wouldn't hurt things too badly? He deserved a little reward for his hard work and scheming, didn't he? It was too much to expect him not to look gift blood in the mouth. After all those years of that blasted *soul* cramping his style, he had to make up a lot of ground. Try as he might, he could never forget the refrain of that wet-blanket conscience: _'Can't kill this, can't kill that, must help this, must help that.'_ Spurred on by those horrid memories, the "bite" side was winning out. 

Until Buffy pushed a stack of papers in his direction. "Angel? Look through these and tell me what you think?" 

Returning to his senses, Angelus reverted to his human mask before Buffy could look at him. He'd almost committed a huge mistake because his willpower had ebbed low. He shouldn't even be considering the possibility of drinking from Buffy again until it came time to drain her once and for all. Taking "snacks" twice recently had evidently been a mistake; it just made him want to steal more of her blood, which was an incredibly dangerous proposition. He needed to stay focused. 

Grabbing up the papers, Angelus forced himself to get to work. Based on the information in the stolen Initiative folder, he and Buffy had already agreed that the time to make their move was over the weekend, before the Initiative could begin to launch its next big anti-demon strike as outlined in their plans. Of course, Angelus knew that being newly chipless he was safe from the Initiative's actions, but Buffy had no clue. Therefore, she was sure to be curious, even suspicious, if all around town other demons dropped like flies while he remained impervious. It simply wouldn't do for Buffy to outwit him and unroot his scheme before he wanted her to. Besides, he was holding a major grudge against those Initiative bastards and he wanted them to pay. Pretending to read, Angelus fantasized about slaughtering the soldiers and doctors and painting the walls with their blood. 

Those thoughts cheered him so much that he was able to fully concentrate on Buffy when she had finished skimming her share of the papers. Assuming he was also done, Buffy bit her lip and then began, "I have an idea, Angel. You might not like it, but hear me out." She pointed to a small stack of papers topped off by a blue diagram. "That stuff is all about the Initiative's computer system. I don't have the first clue how to get in and disable it, but I bet *Willow* would. Now, I think it's time to go to the gang. This is a huge operation and it'll be tough for us to take it down without help. We need my friends. Together, we'll stand a much better chance." 

Working together, however, meant Giles' involvement, and all of Angelus' senses were screaming *danger*. While he didn't precisely *fear* the Watcher, he did respect him and was far from eager to work closely with the man. Which meant he had to blast a hole in Buffy's idea. "We can't be at all sure your friends will even speak to us," Angelus slyly pointed out, forcibly reminding Buffy of their estrangement. "They haven't exactly been pleasant lately, so why would that change now? Especially if they'd have to work with me. Xander's never liked me, Giles is still holding a grudge, Anya and Tara don't seem to particularly care one way or the other, and Willow is making her disapproval clear by treating you like a stranger in your own dorm room. Of course, it's all because of me and it's not like I blame any of them. I deserve that treatment. But you don't. I just think you should face the facts. Even if they could help us, they won't want to. In fact, I'm sure Giles, in particular, would try to stop us." 

Brow furrowed, Buffy took a few minutes to consider those words. "You're probably right about Giles. Talking him around to our point of view would be tough. But we can't pull off this entire operation on our own. It's way too big. We need help to disable the Initiative computer system. We need someone like Willow." 

Damn. When Buffy was right, she was right. The Initiative plan hinged on a complicated-looking computer program that Angelus had no clue how to bring down. Well, he might as well take advantage of her friends and use them while he still could. "How likely is it that Willow will be willing to pitch in?" 

"She isn't unsympathetic to us right now. It's more that the others are and she's following the path of least resistance, plus she believes it's all for my own good. But she definitely wouldn't want you to die or be hurt if she could prevent it. You know Willow--she's got a soft heart." Buffy indicated the scattered papers. "If I can get her alone and show her all this stuff, I'm pretty sure she'll help out." 

"Fine," Angelus decided. "I trust your judgement, Buffy. Talk to Willow and get her on our side." And if Willow happened to figure out his secret along the way, he'd just conveniently skip ahead in the order and eat her next. The very thought brought a smile to his lips that Buffy naturally assumed was meant for her. 

* * *

Angel had volunteered to patrol for Buffy while she reviewed the Initiative papers and called Willow to ask for her help. After all, someone had to make at least an occasional quick sweep to keep the undead population under control, and Buffy had certainly been slacking off lately. It was a wonder the demons hadn't already taken advantage of her negligence and stormed the town. Thinking about it, maybe the reason they hadn't was because the Initiative had been taking them out in her absence. Buffy had to admit, if she was correct, the organization wasn't all bad. But she hadn't changed her overall opinion. Their actions toward the chipped demons crossed a line that appalled her. 

Shuffling the papers back into a reasonable semblance of order, Buffy wondered when Angel would get back. She checked her watch and guessed that he should return at any minute. She hoped he beat Willow so they could face her as a team. Together, they would probably be more convincing than they were apart. Once Willow heard the full story, she wouldn't be able to look Angel in the face and refuse to save him. She'd already agreed to come over and meet with them, which was a very positive sign. 

As she replaced the folder on the coffee table, Buffy heard the sound of the door opening and turned around. Like she had expected (Willow would have knocked), Angel was back. "How'd things go?" Buffy greeted him as she approached. "Was it busy, or --" She stopped and looked more closely at Angel. "You have blood on your collar. Are you hurt?" 

He stepped away from her. "Must have come from a skirmish I had with another vampire. He put up a bit of a fight before I could stake him." 

Buffy anxiously studied him as he removed his coat and settled down on the couch. He was moving smoothly and seemed to be all right, as he'd claimed. "Just one vampire? I thought there might be a lot since I haven't been out much lately." 

"Three," Angel elaborated. "Two were fledglings. Easy kills. The third was the only one to put up much of a fight. But I handled it pretty quickly." 

"All right." Buffy joined him on the couch. "Well, good news. I called Willow and she's on her way over. She promised she won't tell anyone, either. I told her I wanted to talk about something personal I didn't want the others to know about. Which is true, more or less. Anyway, the point is that no one else will be tagging along to complicate things. The only person we'll have to deal with is Willow." 

"Good." Angel edged a bit closer to her. "We have a while before she gets here, don't we?" 

"A little, I guess. I'm not sure how much exactly. I called a few minutes after you went out, so it depends on if Willow left right away or not. I'm glad you got here first. We should try to think of a good way to get through to her." 

"Hmm." Angel moved even closer, so he was pressed against Buffy. "You know, Willow probably won't turn up for at least another half hour. Do you want to waste all that time talking?" 

"We won't be wasting it. Willow might take some convincing and I don't want to fail just because we didn't say the right thing." 

"You won't fail. I have every confidence in your ability to get through to her." At the end of this very short speech, Angel turned and pinned Buffy against the couch, nuzzling her neck. 

"Angel." She turned her head, expecting him to get the hint, but he didn't back off. "Stop it, Angel." Buffy nudged him back, beginning to get a little annoyed. Why was he being so persistent? When she felt the tip of a fang graze her neck, she stopped being nice about it and shoved hard at his shoulders. "Angel, what do you think you're doing?" The force of her push was enough to move him back and allow her to squirm away to her feet, where she put a little distance between them. 

Angel had switched back to his human appearance, which he usually wore around her. The fact that he had gone into demon face in the first place was strange and a little disturbing. Which meant something was wrong. She just had to figure out what. 

Lying back on the couch, making no attempt to pursue her, Angel merely looked up innocently. "What's wrong?" 

Yes, he was definitely acting very strangely. And then it struck Buffy--the reason behind his odd behavior. She was amazed she hadn't realized it before. "Angel, I know what's going on." 

"You do?" 

"Yes. It took some time, but I finally figured it out. You're scared, aren't you?" 

"Scared?" he repeated in a startled tone. 

Gaining confidence in her theory, Buffy went on, "Yes, and it's perfectly understandable. You're being threatened by people who are judging you by *what* you are, not *who* you are, and they won't listen to reason. It isn't right, so of course you're frustrated and scared. I am, too. But we're working out the solution and it'll be all right." A rapping on the front door sounded before Angel could reply to her speech. "That'll be Willow. Told you she'd be right over." Hoping the presence of her friend would help, Buffy hurried to answer the door. 

As promised, Willow had come alone. She listened as Buffy explained the situation, reacting strongly to the idea of the Initiative striking out against the chipped demons and shooting Angel a sympathetic look. 

Finished with the narrative, Buffy handed over the folder and made special note of certain pages as she explained their significance to Willow. "So you see why we need your help," she concluded. "We do have it, right?" 

Willow looked at her and Angel, hesitated, then nodded. "I can't let something like this happen without trying to stop it. And you have a lot of detailed information here. Based on this, I'm pretty sure I can infiltrate the Initiative's computer system." 

"That's great!" 

"But," Willow pointed out, "I'll need a computer to do it and you don't have one here." 

"Oh. That's bad." She should have thought of that problem before, Buffy realized. Naturally, Angel didn't have a computer around the place. He didn't even have a regular telephone--just that cell phone he barely knew how to use. "So what does that mean?" 

"I'll have to do the work somewhere else. Are you *sure* you don't want Giles to know about any of this?" 

Buffy glanced at Angel. "Perfectly sure. I don't want to risk the possibility of him disapproving and trying to stop us." 

"I see your point. All right, I won't mention it to him and we'll see how things go. I'll call you with a status report as soon as I can." 

"Here." Buffy wrote down Angel's cell-phone number and handed the paper to Willow. "Use this number to get in touch with Angel. If I'm not at the dorm, I'll probably be here with him." 

"Right." Willow tucked the number away and headed for the door with her share of the papers. "I guess I'll call you, then." 

"Thanks, Willow." Buffy waited until her friend was gone, then turned to speak to Angel. 

He was gone. 

* * *

As Buffy and Willow droned on about their distressingly non-hands-on Initiative strike, Angelus tuned them out and thought of his own scheme. It would be ideal if he could simply station himself outside the complex and slaughter the soldiers as they came out. But the logistics would require too much work, in all likelihood. 

Reluctantly shelving the idea, Angelus started as he heard a scraping noise that came from the back of the house. He glanced at Buffy and Willow, but they were still talking and apparently hadn't heard a thing. He strained his ears, listening intently, and caught the sound again. It could be an animal or something equally harmless. Or it might be an intruder. 

Not wanting to get Buffy involved, Angelus stole out of the room and made his way to near the back door, where he halted. He didn't hear anything more and decided to take a calculated risk by stepping outside. A quick look at the ground confirmed his theory; a telltale cigarette butt lay there. The intruder was just Spike. Relaxing, Angelus glanced around and spotted a flicker of light to his left as Spike approached with a lit cigarette in his hand. 

"About time you came out," Spike complained in a low voice. "You weren't in the house when I got here and it took you long enough to hear me. Where were you before?" 

Certain that Buffy was nowhere close, Angelus decided to take a few minutes to exchange information with Spike. "I wanted to go out and get someone to eat but I could hardly tell Buffy that, now could I? Instead I offered to patrol for her, thereby earning brownie points while giving myself a cover story. So while I was out snacking on a McDonald's night manager, Buffy thought I was doing her job for her. She'll never know the difference. What's one human more or less?" 

"Two," Spike corrected him, licking his lips. As Angelus glared at him, he defended himself. "What? You're not living off of bagged blood anymore, so why should I?" 

"To help keep a low profile? I'm not using the bagged stuff because it's beneath my dignity now that I have my fangs back. You, on the other hand, have no dignity, and besides that, you can't afford to be spotted." 

Ignoring the jibe, Spike nodded toward the mansion. "What exactly's going on in there? Heard the Slayer and her little friend gabbing, but what's the point of it all?" 

"Buffy is earning her keep. She stole some information from the Initiative and she's trying to rope Willow into taking down their computer system." 

Spike exhaled a long stream of smoke before replying. "*That's* your grand scheme?" 

"From your tone, I take it you aren't very enthusiastic." 

"You're not gonna like to hear this." 

"When has that ever stopped you?" 

"But I'm going to say it anyway," Spike went on. "If you're just going to quietly go along with that plan, there's no doubt about it, you *have* gone soft. This isn't what I signed on for. You promised me action--death and destruction. You haven't delivered much so far and at this rate, the future doesn't look promising." 

Pulling back from his original impulse to order Spike to simply shut up and follow any orders he cared to give, Angelus weighed his answer before replying. "I understand that it might seem that way to you, Spike. However, you lack the vision of, say, *me*. I can both comprehend and acknowledge that this method, while lacking artistry, is a significant means of revenge. I'm perfectly willing to leave it to Buffy and Willow. Sometimes, even the worst of us needs a little help. I don't know how to infiltrate the computers myself, and besides, think of the emotional damage Buffy and Willow will suffer when they realize they were helping me instead of Angel. Also, I'm thinking we can use their attack on the Initiative to our advantage, if the timetable works out." 

Spike flicked away his cigarette butt and reached into his pocket for the pack. Before he could grab a fresh cigarette, Angelus cuffed his hand away. "I've told you before--don't smoke around here if you aren't going to pick up after yourself. The last thing I need is for Buffy to find those cigarette butts and start wondering why they're here." 

Spike scowled but dropped his hand to his side. "I wouldn't need to hide them if you took up smoking yourself. Then Buffy would just think they were yours." 

"Oh, like *that* wouldn't make her suspicious. Anyway, I have a better idea: *You* can quit." 

Grumbling, Spike ignored him and snatched the telltale butts from the ground. "There. Satisfied?" 

Angelus nodded. "Now, I have an idea. Go steal a cell phone and call me to leave your number. We need to keep in touch, and it's too dangerous for you to lurk around here while Buffy's staying. Sooner or later, our luck is bound to run out and she'll spot you." He'd have to be careful to monitor the phone, of course. It wouldn't do to have Buffy answer it if Spike tried to reach him. On that note, Angelus realized that Spike hadn't yet filled him in on recent activities. "By the way, where exactly were you these past few days?" 

"Here and there. Nowhere important. Except for one place. I went to Los Angeles to see how things were going, give you a status report." Spike smiled. "Sad. Very sad. Well, actually, I guess that depends on your point of view. Those humans you left behind have pretty much succeeded in running your business into the ground." 

"It was never *my* business. It was a do-gooder's enterprise, which clearly marked it as Angel's brainstorm. He didn't even have the nerve to charge his clients. More proof of how pathetic and weak that miserable excuse for a vampire was." Angelus shook his head; he never failed to marvel at Angel's inadequacies. "So, did you see either of them? Cordelia or Wesley?" 

"No sign of Wesley, but Cordelia was moping around and she looked like she was in a pretty bad mood." 

"Business as usual, then," Angelus noted. "She used to look like that most of the time. Probably because her so-called acting career landed in the toilet almost before it began. She was terrible. Anyone who hired her would have to be rock-bottom desperate, let me tell you. Cordelia is the world's worst actress. And I should know, being the best actor." 

Spike shrugged. "Yeah, well, I was thinking of doing you a favor and killing her." 

A bolt of alarm shot through Angelus. "You didn't do it, did you?" 

"Why? Would you have minded? You hate the bint, right?" 

"Of course I do. I hate everyone, but naturally, Cordelia holds a very special place on my list. But she must be allowed to live for at least a while longer, because if she dies and Buffy gets wind of it, she might begin to investigate and catch on to the fact that every recent catastrophe or misunderstanding has me at its root. From there, she might even piece together the truth. It's too soon to take out Cordelia. Besides, when the time does come, you won't get to do the honors. I will." 

"Let me get this straight: You're planning to take out the Slayer, and her Watcher, and her friends, and Cordelia, plus you already got Finn. What I'm wondering is, what do *I* get, aside from the stray Initiative soldier or random idiot who goes out alone at night?" 

Angelus paused. He really hadn't given Spike's situation much consideration lately. "I might let you have Buffy's mother," he finally conceded with more than a bit of reluctance--he'd kind of wanted to save Joyce for himself, too. Then again, Spike did deserve an occasional crumb. "That is, unless her hot chocolate with little marshmallows won you over to her side?" 

"Will you lay off about the hot chocolate?" Spike snapped. "I mean, you drink it once and no one'll ever let you forget about it." 

Spike had a point, so Angelus backed off. "Sorry, my mistake. Do I take it, then, that you have no objections to offing Joyce?" 

"None at all," Spike replied, his eyes beginning to glow in anticipation. "In fact, I'll be glad to do it. I think she likes me, and the last thing I need is someone giving me a good name." 

"Only too true," Angelus agreed. "Speaking from experience, that is absolutely no fun." He shivered at the horrible memories and then checked his watch. "Well, I can't stay outside any longer or Buffy might come looking for me. On your way, Spike. Steal that phone and give me a call as soon as you can." He waited until Spike was safely gone before he retreated inside the house to resume his act. 

* * *

After Willow left the mansion, Buffy looked around for Angel. He was nowhere to be seen, having vanished sometime during the conversation. Maybe he'd been bored by the technical talk, but still.... The incident was another to add to his string of odd actions tonight. Why hadn't he said where he was going, or even indicated that he was leaving in the first place? Buffy was really beginning to get annoyed. 

Rather than dwell on the situation, though, she settled down with her psychology textbook and started to read the assigned chapter. Another instructor was filling in during Professor Walsh's absence, which meant classes were going on more or less as normal and Buffy had to keep up. She was highlighting an especially important passage when Angel came back into the room and broke her concentration. 

She wasn't going to acknowledge him. She wouldn't ask where he'd been or what he'd been doing. Instead, she'd wait to see if he volunteered the information. 

Angel strolled closer. Buffy automatically turned a page. To her surprise, Angel didn't come right over to her, but crossed to the table, slid open the drawer, and pulled out his cell phone. 

Momentarily forgetting her annoyance, Buffy shoved aside her book and jumped up. "Oh, you remembered to get the phone out. It's a good thing you did, because it completely slipped my mind and Willow could be calling pretty much anytime to give me a progress report." She extended her hand toward Angel. "I'd like to keep the phone nearby." 

"I'll hold onto it," Angel offered. 

"You're joking, right? You don't even really know how to use it. You'd probably end up sticking it inside another drawer or turning it off so Willow would never get through. It's safer with me." Buffy held out her hand again, and this time Angel slowly surrendered the phone. "We'll bring it upstairs when we go to bed so we'll be sure not to miss Willow's call. Speaking of which...." She hesitated. She hadn't wanted to be the one to bring up the subject, but Angel wasn't exactly being forthcoming. "Where did you go while I was talking to Willow before? I turned around and you had disappeared." 

Angel paced to the far wall and turned around before answering. "I went outside to check the grounds just in case someone from the Initiative was around. You never know--they might realize you took the papers and come looking for them." 

The excuse sounded plausible enough, but something about the situation still bothered Buffy. She just couldn't put a finger on what. Then again, considering all the recent trouble, it was probably just her paranoia coming into play. She shrugged off the feeling of concern and asked Angel, "You didn't see anyone?" 

"Had no trouble at all. Everything's fine. We'll dismantle the Initiative and show your friends the error of their ways. No need to worry now." 

Angel sounded so certain, almost like he knew something she didn't, that Buffy found herself gaining confidence from his words. "I'll just be relieved when all this is over with and we can get on with our normal lives. Well, as normal as they ever get, for us. It seems like we're always getting involved in some new disaster just as one ends." 

"I've been able to handle everything that's been thrown at me for more than 200 years," Angel pointed out. 

It was true, Buffy acknowledged. Angel didn't like to talk about it much, but he had survived a lot. She managed a slight smile and a nod. 

Angel glanced at her battered textbook. "Do you really want to stay up studying, or can that wait until tomorrow? It's getting late, you know." 

Buffy looked at the boring book and stifled a yawn; either she really was tired or just the thought of going back to studying bored her that much. "It can wait. It's mainly some reading and then I have to write a short essay. I can do it in the morning." 

"Good. You go ahead. I'll be up soon." 

Making sure to bring the cell phone with her, Buffy ascended the stairs alone and got ready for bed. She decided to curl up and wait for Angel to join her. She'd just close her eyes to rest them for a few minutes.... 

As if it came from a great distance, Buffy heard a persistent ringing. It reminded her of an alarm clock, but that wasn't quite right.... She came awake with a start. It was Angel's cell phone. It rang twice more as both Buffy and Angel, evidently also awakened by the noise, searched for it. Finally Buffy hunted it up beneath a fold of blanket and answered breathlessly, "Hello." No reply. 

"Let me have it," Angel urged as he flicked on the bedside lamp. 

Buffy covered the mouthpiece and told him, "Just a minute." She spoke into the receiver again. "Willow? Is that you?" A click answered her, as the person who had called hung up. Not Willow, then, obviously. "Wrong number," she informed Angel, placing the phone on the table on her side of the bed. "Whoever it was hung up." 

"You should have given me the phone." 

"Why?" Buffy wondered. "If the person had a wrong number, it wouldn't make any difference which of us was speaking." 

"Yeah, right," Angel said shortly. He threw aside the blankets and got up. "I'm going downstairs to get some breakfast." 

"All right." Buffy watched curiously as he left the room. Angel's reaction to the phone call had been very odd. She turned off the light and tried to put the incident out of her mind so she could go back to sleep, but it was no use. She was simply unable to drift off. So instead, she sat up again and worried about what was going on with Angel. It wasn't just that one thing was wrong; it was the combination of little incidents that added up to one disturbing whole. 

After mulling over the situation, Buffy finally came up with an idea. She grabbed the cell phone and dialed a number before she could talk herself out of doing it. After a good eight rings, the person on the other end answered in a groggy voice. 

Buffy sighed with relief and began her speech. "Hey, it's Buffy. I'm sorry to call so early but I need you to come see me as soon as you can. It's about Angel. He's acting very strange and I have to ask you something." 

Angelus stormed downstairs into the kitchen. He just knew that mystery phone call had come from Spike, and because of Buffy he had missed it. Now he had to hope he could pry the phone away from her without arousing too much suspicion, and that Spike would call back during the new window of opportunity. 

Still fuming, he microwaved a cup of blood to boiling level and downed it in one long swallow, but he remained unsatisfied after drinking. Of course, that was because this swill wasn't the breakfast he wanted. Angelus glared at the remaining blood in the dingy plastic bag. It was part of the cover he kept around to fool Buffy, and it was, without question, beneath his dignity. He wanted the good blood. He deserved the good blood. And all he had to do to get it was to go upstairs and make up with Buffy. It shouldn't be too hard, he told himself. Buffy had proven to be pretty much of a pushover where he was concerned. With the chip out, he didn't even need to worry anymore about possibly hurting himself when he bit her. 

It didn't take much for Angelus to talk himself into giving it a go. He tossed the animal blood back into the refrigerator and calmed himself a bit before he walked back upstairs. He couldn't let Buffy think he was still upset. She would have questions, and a Buffy with questions was not a Buffy who would give him her blood. 

He paused in the bedroom doorway, staring at her. She had her eyes closed; was breathing slowly and evenly. He could drain her now. The thought was tempting. He'd waited for so long already, and Slayers didn't just fall into his lap very often. But no. His plan was still unfolding, and it wasn't Buffy's time yet. He'd already settled on a pecking order. Her turn would come about eventually, and it would be all the more exciting and fulfilling for the wait. 

Quietly padding over to the bed, Angelus sat down on the edge and traced a hand along Buffy's face, down to her neck. She stirred, probably half-asleep, and tried to shift his hand away without actually opening her eyes. Angelus leaned down to caress her lips with his. He'd convince her to wake up, if only for long enough for him to indulge in his meal. 

Only Buffy was not cooperating. She made an indistinct murmur and squirmed away a bit. Not about to give up so easily, Angelus pressed the issue. Her blood-engorged veins were so close. He edged downward, nearer and nearer to his goal. Ignoring Buffy's murmur of "Not now," he brushed one blunt tooth over her neck and promptly morphed, fangs ready. With a triumphant growl, he snapped open his jaws and lunged. Then, just as his fangs pierced Buffy's pale flesh, he heard a distinct, "Angel, stop it!" In the next minute, his shoulders were pushed back, his teeth lost their contact, and with a thunk!, Angelus fell off the bed. 

***** 

Buffy leaned over the side of the bed to see Angel lying on the floor rubbing his head where it had apparently connected with the bedside table, judging by the crack after he fell. He didn't look particularly happy, which made two of them. He had a bump on his head; she might have a scar on her throat. 

"No fangs! I thought I didn't have to tell you that!" she scolded. He had retracted them by now, but she couldn't suppress the memories of how it had felt to have them drag along her skin, then begin to puncture it. Reflexively, Buffy brought a hand to her throat to feel around for any blood. She was slightly mollified when she withdrew it dry, but then again, the only reason Angel hadn't bitten her deeply was because she had pushed him away in time. 

"It's a vampire thing," he explained, sitting up. "Keeping the demon in check requires a lot of control. I can't just turn it on and off like a faucet." 

"So you're saying your actions were instinctual and you couldn't help yourself." Buffy couldn't help remembering when he'd morphed following their first kiss years ago. That action certainly hadn't been deliberate, and she saw some truth in Angel's words this time. How hard must it be for a longtime vampire to live around the scent of fresh, hot, flowing human blood--that of a Slayer, no less--and remain unmoved? She had to represent a constant temptation to Angel. Would he ever be able to get past that fact and live at peace with her? The thought of dealing with biting problems every day sent a shudder through Buffy. Much as she loved Angel, she didn't love his pointed teeth. Simply the hint of being attacked was enough to make her skin crawl. "And what about the chip?" she added. "Shouldn't that have nipped your little attempt in the bud?" 

"If I don't intend to harm you, it doesn't go off," Angel reminded her. "We discussed that a while ago." 

"Yes, but this time I had no clue you wanted to chew on my neck. You just unilaterally decided to do it." Buffy stared at Angel. He *looked* pretty sorry. Of course, that might be mainly because he'd hit his head and it hurt, but it could also be because he regretted his actions. What the hell was going on? She couldn't shake away her doubts, and she hated not being able to trust Angel 100%. What was she supposed to do? Then Buffy thought about the phone call she had made not so long ago. She only hoped it worked. She needed a second opinion soon, and she needed a reliable one from someone with a different viewpoint. Soon, all of her questions might be answered. 

Keeping firm hold of that encouraging thought, Buffy swung her legs out of bed and stood up. "Look, I'm gonna go sleep in another room, okay. I think we need a little distance right now." Angel didn't try to stop her as she left. 

The call from Spike came an hour later. In her confusion, Buffy had accidentally left the cell phone behind, giving Angelus the opportunity to intercept the brief call. He copied down Spike's cell-phone number, hid it in his pocket, and resumed acting innocent. Not that he had anyone to practice the act on at the moment, since Buffy was sleeping in a bedroom down the hall. 

When the phone rang a few hours after Spike's call, Angelus answered with a conservative "Hello?" and the thought that it might not be Spike on the other end this time. 

He was correct; it was Willow. "Angel? Can I talk to Buffy?" 

"Sure." As he went down the hall to wake her, he cautiously dug for a little information from Willow. "Have a breakthrough yet on the Initiative stuff?" 

"Oh, yeah. I'm pretty happy." 

"That's good." Angelus reached Buffy's room and opened the door. She was still asleep. "Hey. Wake up." He nudged her and waited until she opened her eyes before he handed over the phone. Then he returned to the hall, out of sight but not out of hearing range, the better to idly eavesdrop on Buffy and Willow's conversation. It turned out to be almost all about the results of Willow's computer work. Nothing to be alarmed about. If Buffy was suspicious of him, she didn't mention her concerns to her friend. 

Once she had hung up, Angelus retreated so that she wouldn't know he'd been listening. He went downstairs into the living room to wait, and sure enough, several minutes later Buffy appeared, dressed and looking ready to go out. 

"Angel." She hesitated, staring at him, then continued. "Willow just told me she made a really big breakthrough with the computer work she's been doing for us. I'm going to meet her and talk about what to do next." 

"All right. Sounds good." Angelus nodded, figuring this course of events could be for the best. If Buffy was concerned with other matters, she would have less chance to mull over the unfortunate incident from earlier that day. At the least, her departure would create a little much-needed space between them so he could regroup. 

"Bye, then." Buffy quickly exited. 

"Hmmm." Angelus thought as he paced the room, feeling like a caged tiger. Buffy was unsure of him; that much was painfully obvious. Would this bit of time and space really do much to help fix matters? Probably not. It seemed he might have to make a bold move to win her back. What, though? Seek out and kill a vicious demon so he could present her with its head on a platter? Save a busload of children from sure death? Make friends with Xander? 

No, scratch that last option, the most ridiculous of the bunch. If he started being nice to Xander, it would only arouse *everyone's* suspicions. Even Angel, who had notoriously awful taste in friends, had barely been able to tolerate Xander. Angelus and Xander, then, made a decidedly unmixable combination. 

Well, Angelus considered, he could do something that would compel Buffy to turn to him. That path seemed like the one to pursue. And Angelus thought he knew exactly the move to make. He had been thinking about it for some time as a move he would pull off down the road. Perhaps "down the road" had arrived. The maneuver was risky, it was outrageous, it was dangerous, and if it worked, the payoff could be tremendous. Yes, tonight Angelus was going to kill Rupert Giles. 

***** 

To rest up for the big night ahead, Angelus took a nap on the couch with the cell phone beside him. Of course, it rang just as he was drifting off, and he answered with some annoyance coloring his voice. "Hello?" 

Silence. 

"Hello? Who is this?" 

His answer was a dial tone as the caller hung up. 

Must have been a wrong number, Angelus decided as he lay back. This time, though, he found it hard to fall asleep so he lay and basked in his plans for that night. Giles' death was a means to an end. It would eliminate an enemy, and more importantly, it would devastate Buffy. She wouldn't--couldn't--suspect him, the poor, put-upon, defanged vampire boyfriend--of the crime. Therefore, she would turn to him, her Watcher's secret killer, for solace. Angelus could think of no greater irony. Eventually, he would be all Buffy had left. And then.... 

The ringing of the doorbell roused him from his beautiful fantasy. Growling, he got to his feet. It was starting to seem like all the annoying bastards in the world had picked that day to target him. Well, he'd answer quickly, get rid of whoever was pestering him, and return to his delightful daydreams of death and destruction. 

Yet when Angelus yanked open the door, his day underwent a drastic change. For standing outside was one of the last people he expected: Cordelia Chase. 

She arched an eyebrow, tapped one elegantly shod foot, and finally snapped, "Well, aren't you going to ask me in?" 

"Of course." Feeling incredibly pissed off at the intrusive bitch who was sure to cramp his style, Angelus nonetheless collected himself as he stepped back and gestured Cordelia inside. She waited until he had closed the door, then stood in front of him with an expectant expression on her face. She couldn't want... yes, she *must* want it: a hug. Valiantly trying to hide his distaste, Angelus reached out and enveloped Cordelia in his arms. "It's good to see you, Cordy. Really." 

She squirmed out of his embrace after about three seconds. "Okay, enough of that. Get away from me." 

Angelus watched as Cordelia backed away from him until a good 20 feet separated them. "What do you mean? What's wrong?" 

She glared at him. "Don't ever touch me again--Angelus." 

TBC


	18. Demon Revenge 9: Caught in the Act

_Last time: Cordelia arrived at the mansion and recognized Angelus._

********************************

She glared at him. "Don't ever touch me again--Angelus." 

He must have misheard Cordelia. "What did you call me?" 

She rolled her eyes. "You heard me, Angelus." 

He held his ground and refused to panic. There was no way Cordelia could know the truth. "Why are you calling me that?" 

"Duh, because it's your name. You know, the one you went by for more than a century, before you were cursed with your soul. Angelus, as in the Scourge of Europe. It's written all over you, plus I have proof. Don't try to play dumb with me. You might think I'm a bimbo without two brain cells to rub together, but there's a lot more to Cordelia Chase than that oh-so-false image. Now, where's Buffy? She and I need to have a little talk." 

"She's out," Angelus replied truthfully, figuring it was pointless to lie. Even if Cordelia didn't have proof, all she had to do was repeat his name to Buffy and the game would be over. "You can search the house if you want, but you won't find her." 

"All right, she's out where?" 

"Do you really think I'll tell you, knowing that you have every intention of feeding her the truth as you see it the second you spot her?" 

"What choice do you have? I'll find her eventually and you know it. If you cooperate, though, she might not stake you right away. She might just lock you up until Willow can restore your soul again." 

Angelus bared his teeth. "That soul is never getting back inside this body. I'd dust myself first." 

"That would save us all a lot of time and trouble, except it would mean Angel would be gone too and I don't like that idea so much. I kind of grew fond of him while we were working together. Nope." Cordelia shook her head emphatically. "He's coming back and you can't do a thing to stop it." 

"I could kill you." 

"How? By gumming me to death? I know all about your defangment, remember? Why else do you think I was willing to come in here and talk to you, without even a weapon in my hand? It's because I could beat you up without even trying. Wesley could, too. Even Xander wouldn't have a problem. So keeping all that in mind, do you still say Buffy went out and you won't tell me where?" 

"Naturally. I refuse to give up so easily." 

"I'll wait for her, then." Cordelia moved over to the leather chair, eyed it knowingly, and then sat down on it. 

After a moment, Angelus shrugged and followed her, taking one end of the couch. "So, since we have some time to kill, no pun intended, tell me how you figured things out." 

"Well." Cordelia looked at him. "Why not? It should be fun to point out all your stupid mistakes. It started when you left Los Angeles so suddenly. You made up some excuse about why, but let's face it, it was pretty flimsy. Wesley and I got left in the lurch trying to keep *your* business afloat, and of course we didn't stand much of a chance. You're the muscle, after all, and you usually need muscle a lot more than brains or beauty when you're dealing with demons." 

Angelus smirked. "Maybe you just don't associate with the right sort of demon." 

Cordelia ignored him. "So anyway, you were off in Sunnydale for, like, ages, and at first we thought you'd just fallen under Buffy's spell again. I mean, I don't *get* what you see in her, but it's happened before so that wasn't too big of a shock. I figured, you didn't want to run your agency anymore, I never really wanted to work at it except for the money, so that was fair enough. 

"After a while, though, I started to get suspicious. The little things were adding up. Like all those broken Barry Manilow records I found in your garbage, and how you wouldn't even talk to me on the phone once a week. And it was like you'd forgotten Wesley existed, too. Weird. Then Buffy called and asked me--" 

"Wait a minute," Angelus snapped. "What do you mean, Buffy called?" 

"Exactly what I said. I got a phone call from Buffy early this morning. She was starting to have her own doubts and she turned to me for help. She figured that because I was with you in Los Angeles, I'd have more insight into how you'd changed since you left Sunnydale after graduation. I think she just wanted me to drop by, reassure her everything was okay, and leave. But that ain't gonna happen now." 

Angelus' brain was racing. Buffy was expecting Cordelia. If he simply killed Cordelia, Buffy would wonder what had happened, why her visitor had never showed up. Buffy would certainly call Los Angeles and learn from Wesley that Cordelia wasn't there. She would probably waste a little time checking up on highway accidents or any other event that could have waylaid Cordelia, but she wouldn't find any. Sooner or later, then, her suspicions would turn full force toward Angelus. He was screwed if he killed Cordelia; he was screwed if he didn't. He had to think of a third choice, only that was easier said that done. "What else do you have on me?" he bluffed, playing for time while he calculated odds and risks. "That can't be all." 

"No, sure isn't." Cordelia lifted her chin. "This morning the police found the dead body of Rebecca Lowell with fang marks in her neck. Could have been a coincidence; could have been some other vampire. Except that I know Rebecca was your client, and she was missing since right about the time you left Los Angeles. That discovery of her body is actually what made me decide to come here right away. I was going to wait a day or two since, you know, Buffy isn't one of my favorite people and I thought she was just being a pain in the ass. But when I heard about Rebecca, I got in the car and drove straight over to check things out. Then I arrived here and you hugged me, and that told me all I needed to know. I saw the look on your face. It was disgust. Angel might have looked uncomfortable or uncertain, but he wouldn't have looked disgusted. That was an Angelus expression, through and through. Finding it a bit hard to keep up the charade, aren't you? And speaking of that, what I want to know is, how did you lose your soul and when?" 

"That's a question I'm not going to answer," Angelus replied. "And you do realize you'll never get a chance to relate all of your little beliefs to Buffy." 

"I repeat, how are you going to stop me? A, I know about the chip in your head. B, Buffy's expecting me. Oh, and did I mention the chip in your head yet?" Cordelia crossed her legs and smiled a supercilious little smile. 

Angelus had never wanted to eat anyone so badly in his entire existence. He could do it, too. He held the advantage. Cordelia had no clue the chip had been removed. Of course, if he offed her then he'd have to find a way around the fact that Buffy was waiting for her arrival. Yet what other options did he have? He couldn't think of any way to blackmail Cordelia around to his side. Threats, begging, bribery wouldn't work. At least if he got her out of the way, he would live to plot another night. Yes, Cordelia Chase simply had to die. 

***** 

Buffy watched as Willow's fingers flew over the computer keyboard. She supposed she ought to be thrilled. Willow had used a lot of technical language to get across the fact that she had hacked into the Initiative's databases and could do whatever she wanted with them. That had been their aim all along. Yet somehow Buffy couldn't bring herself to feel especially happy. 

It was because she was worried about the entire mess with Angel, she decided. Her hope was that Cordelia would show up soon and lay her fears to rest. That outcome would be the best possible. She didn't let herself think about what would happen if Cordelia's news tended toward the negative. 

"Hey, Buffy." Willow nudged her. "You paying attention?" 

"Kind of. Not really. What is it?" 

"I can start the sequence any time now. It needs to build up gradually, but in 24 hours, the Initiative computers and all their information will be ruined. Angel will be safe then." 

Buffy nodded. "That's good." 

"Isn't it?" Willow's index finger hovered over the "enter" key. "Should I do it?" 

Yes... no... yes... no... The thoughts chased each other through Buffy's mind. Finally, she opened her mouth and said, "Yes." 

Willow pressed the button. 

***** 

Cordelia tapped her foot and stared at her watch. "What a waste of time this has been. I came here to talk to Buffy and since she isn't home, I'm going to go find her." Cordelia stood. 

So did Angelus. She'd forced his hand and he could see no other way out of this difficult situation. "Now, hold on, Cordy. I have a question for you. Say I'd never been chipped. Would you be standing in this room with me if that were the case?" 

"Are you kidding? Not in a million years." 

He took a pace toward her. "Or say, for the sake of argument, that the chip was implanted and then removed. What about then?" 

"Same deal." Cordelia shrugged. "But that isn't even an issue. You *are* chipped, as told to me by Buffy, so there's nothing to discuss." 

Angelus nodded. "Point taken. Let's also say that you're right for one of the few times in your life and I am indeed still chipped. Would I, then, be able to do *this* to you without feeling any pain whatsoever?" And he backhanded Cordelia away from his leather chair and into the wall. 

It took her almost a minute to recover enough from the blow to rise, even though he hadn't hit her as hard as he would have liked. It was too soon for that. He needed Cordelia to keep what few wits she had about her for at least another several minutes. Otherwise, it just wouldn't be as much fun. 

She finally got to her feet, braced against the wall with blood welling from her split lip. "How did you..." 

"Hit you without giving myself a crippling headache? That's for me to know and you to never find out." 

Cordelia swayed as she stared at him in dismay. "But Buffy told me herself. You shouldn't be able to hurt me." 

The fear covering Cordelia's face was a beautiful thing to behold. Angelus padded closer to her. Her eyes darted to the door and back to him. He stood in the way of her most likely means of escape. "How about I give you a sporting chance, 'cause otherwise it's just too damn easy? I'll let you have a five-second head start. If you can get to the door and outside before I catch you, you'll be safe because it's still daylight. If you can't, well, I haven't had lunch yet." 

Cordelia gaped at him, looking very much like an extremely stupid goldfish, before she accepted the offer and bolted for the door. One...two...three...four...five. She hadn't even managed to turn the knob with her shaking hands before Angelus was upon her. 

"Oh, Cordelia, you're not making this very challenging, are you," he chided. "But I guess that has its advantages. I really can't predict when Buffy might come home, and it's so much better if she isn't present for the finale. I'm afraid I'm going to have to eat and run." 

Cordelia screamed at the top of her lungs and struggled against his hold, momentarily managing to squirm free before she was captured again. "Angel, don't do this!" she begged. "I know you're still there, somewhere inside. You can stop this!" 

Angelus sighed. "Angel isn't here. You can beg and cry for mercy all you want, and it'll just make me bite harder." 

One of Cordelia's feeble blows bounced off his chest. "Buffy will know something's wrong if I don't meet with her. She'll figure out what happened." 

"Maybe, maybe not. It's a chance I'll just have to take." Angelus leaned Cordelia against the wall and tilted her head to the perfect position. "Now, cooperate and stay like that." Naturally, she wriggled even more at those words, so Angelus was forced to repeatedly slam her head back until she went limp. She wasn't dead, though, just nicely stunned. "Not very good at obeying orders, are you? Oh, and Cordelia, there's a lesson you should have learned long ago. A selfish bitch like you should never try to change her spots and do a good deed. It simply doesn't become you." He waited to hear if she had any last words, but he must have cracked her head just a bit too hard. Well, no great loss. "I've been waiting years to do this," Angelus informed her with a grin. With that, he bit into Cordelia's neck. 

* * *

Cordelia's body was safely stashed in the basement. Buffy would never know what had happened. Realizing she could return at any moment, Angelus rinsed his mouth out to get rid of any lingering traces of human blood. Did he have any evidence on his hands? Clothes? No. Good. He just had to ditch Cordelia's purse and the job would be complete. He was all set. 

Or was he? A doubt niggled in his mind. Something wasn't right. Something that might possibly tip Buffy off to the truth. Something he had overlooked. But what? 

Slowly it dawned on him. How had Cordelia gotten to Sunnydale? She must have driven, which meant her car was outside even now. Buffy would return, spot the vehicle, and know Cordelia had shown up. She wouldn't stop looking for answers after that, and a curious Buffy was definitely a dangerous Buffy. He had to get rid of the car. 

Cautiously Angelus edged open the front door. He knew where to stand so that any sunlight wouldn't hit him, but that still left him inside and the car outside. A careful check revealed that Cordelia had managed to park her vehicle in pure sunlight, with not even an inch of shade cover all the way to it. Even in death, the bitch had to make matters as inconvenient as possible. If he hadn't killed her once, Angelus would gladly have done the honors again at the moment. 

He had to move the car before Buffy came back. That bothersome fact remained. Angelus went back and rooted through Cordelia's purse until he found her keys in the change pocket. Then he proceeded to the hall closet, found the biggest, thickest blanket in the place, and draped it over himself. If his mission failed, Buffy would show up to find a bizarre range of items including Cordelia's car, a pile of dust, and a truly horrendous black purse. 

Steeling himself, Angelus nudged open the front door and made a run for it. He could feel the heat of the sun's rays beating down upon him through his protective gear, but it couldn't harm his unexposed body. A tense moment did arise after he had gotten into the car and needed to insert the key in the ignition, but the folds of the blanket continued to provide sufficient cover. 

Where to ditch the car? He couldn't drive too far away, keeping in mind the fact that he'd have to be able to return to the mansion afterward. On the other hand, the hiding place needed to be secluded enough that Buffy wouldn't immediately stumble upon it. After some consideration, Angelus managed to maneuver the vehicle to a nearby woodsy patch that Buffy was extremely unlikely to explore before night fell. At that time, he'd be safe to move it much, much farther away. In fact, that sounded like a job for Spike. 

After secreting the car as well as possible considering the circumstances, Angelus made a mad dash through the sunlight back to the mansion and threw the blanket off once he was safely inside. He'd just performed a task that was tailor-made for a minion. Oh, the indignities he had suffered since his return to Sunnydale. He hoped this one had been the least and last in the string. 

Fortunately, by the time Buffy came back an hour later, no trace of Cordelia remained for prying eyes to easily see. Purse, car, and body were all neatly tucked away. As long as Buffy didn't go snooping, she'd never know the truth. 

Angelus was watching covertly as Buffy entered the living room. Out of the corner of his eye, he observed as she scanned the place and a disappointed expression fell over her face. "Something wrong?" he asked innocently from his position on the couch. 

"No. Not really. Did you do anything interesting today?" Buffy asked in a transparent attempt at being casual. 

"Oh, you know, just a typical day for me," Angelus covered smoothly. "Tai Chi, pig's blood, research..." He held up his copy of "_Famous Demons of the 18th Century_." "You never know when this information might come in handy." 

"Right." Looking distracted, Buffy plopped down in the nearest chair and checked her watch. "I remembered to wear this today, not that it's done me much good." She glanced at the door and sighed. "Okay, well, do you want to know what happened with Willow?" 

"Of course." Angelus set aside the book and settled down to hear what he hoped would be a nice, depressing tale of the downfall of the Initiative. 

As indeed it was. He didn't have to fake his approval at the end of Buffy's recap, which was to the general effect that the organization should basically be crippled within about a day. Not bloodily crippled, unfortunately, but one couldn't have everything. 

For the rest of the day, Buffy remained anxious and moody, periodically checking outside and glancing at her watch. Angelus finally, conveniently, left her alone with the cell phone while he claimed to be going to the kitchen for a snack. He lurked just out of sight and wasn't a bit surprised when Buffy snatched up the phone and placed a quick call in his absence. He listened to her side of the conversation, obviously with Wesley. 

"Is Cordelia there? ... A note? What did it say? ... That's all? ... Yeah, I'm worried about her because I asked her to visit me and I thought she'd be here by now. ... Okay. Thanks." 

Angelus waited another 10 minutes before returning to the living room to spot Buffy, who was trying to hide her concern regarding Cordelia's whereabouts. She didn't breathe a word to him about the situation and resorted to working on homework for several hours, until long after it had grown dark. 

"No patrol tonight?" Angelus eventually asked. 

"I'm taking an evening off. I have so much work to get caught up on," Buffy explained. 

Angelus nodded, not believing her cover story for a second. She just wanted to be around to see if Cordelia arrived. However, her reluctance to leave the house afforded him an excellent opportunity to accelerate the next phase of his plan. "I'll be happy to go out in your place, Buffy," he offered. 

"Yeah, that would be nice," she quickly agreed. 

"Good." Angelus managed to sneak off with the cell phone while Buffy's back was turned. After a brief call to arrange a meeting with Spike at the Adamson crypt in Sunnydale Cemetery, he returned the phone without Buffy noticing and set off for the basement. A risky element of his plan was coming into play. He had to collect Cordelia's body and move it out of the house without Buffy seeing. If only he'd been able to transfer it earlier, before she'd come home, but the sunlight had made that maneuver impossible. 

All went smoothly, though. Angelus grabbed the body and toted it out of the house with Buffy none the wiser. Then he made his way to Cordelia's hidden car and pitched the corpse in the back. A quick drive to Sunnydale Cemetery ensued. The Adamson crypt, chosen because it was near the street, looked as deserted as the rest of the place, but Angelus was confident Spike was lurking inside, waiting for him. 

After he checked to ensure that he had no observers, he pulled Cordelia's sheet-covered body out and carted it to the crypt. Sure enough, Spike was there smoking a cigarette and looking bored. 

Once he saw Angelus' burden, Spike perked up considerably. "What have you got there?" 

"A surprise." Angelus dropped his load on the floor and peeled back the sheet to reveal Cordelia's face. 

Spike poked the body with his foot. "We're finally getting some real action. And there I was thinking you didn't have it in you anymore." 

"Don't get excited and start thinking big yet," Angelus warned. "I only killed Cordelia in self-defense." 

"How do you figure that? Did she get the upper hand and was going to stake you or something?" 

"As if that imbecile could endanger me physically," Angelus scoffed. "No, that was not the case. It turned out she'd figured out my true identity through a most unfortunate series of coincidences, and she was prepared to tell Buffy. What choice did I have but to take her out? It was me or her: a clear case of self-preservation. Of course, Buffy's already a bit suspicious of me, seeing that her phone call to Los Angeles was the basis for Cordelia showing up in the first place, but at least now she won't have proof." 

"You went pretty far," Spike pointed out. "This is quite a drastic step." 

"True." Angelus looked at Cordelia's pale face in disgust. "Still, needs must when the devil drives. Anyway, Spike, I need you to stay with her until tomorrow night, because obviously I can't be away from the mansion for so long. Buffy would think I got dusted." 

"You want to tie me down watching over this?" Spike protested. "Not exactly my idea of a fun time!" 

"I know." Angelus launched into the explanation that would convince Spike to go along with his orders. "What I have planned is going to blow Buffy's mind, but I can't do it without your help." 

Spike listened intently as Angelus gave him the details of an evil new plot. In the end, appreciative of its diabolical consequences, he did indeed agree to fulfill his part. If all went smoothly, Buffy's suspicions would be completely derailed by the end of the following night. 

Buffy spent the bulk of Monday engaged in very boring, fruitless activity. Cordelia still hadn't arrived or bothered to call to report her whereabouts. True, she had only been inaccessible for about a day and she'd never stated precisely when she planned to come to Sunnydale. On the other hand, Wesley had confirmed that she'd left home, and where else would she have gone? All things considered, she should have arrived by now, unless something terrible had happened to her. A car accident was not out of the question, as were various other troublesome possibilities. 

As dusk approached, Buffy ran down the list of people and organizations she had called in hopes of uncovering information. Highway patrol, hospitals, the police station, Wesley again, Cordelia's parents, and even Willow. During her brief conversation with her friend, she had been careful not to mention Cordelia's name to avoid tipping her off. Despite her reticence, she was confident Cordelia had not shown up. Willow had said that aside from the Initiative action, nothing of particular importance was going on, and surely she would have mentioned if she'd unexpectedly seen Cordelia. The last phone call Buffy made was to her former home, just in case. She'd received no answer, which was just as well. She wasn't sure if her mom would have stayed on the line after hearing her voice. Anyway, Cordelia going there was a longshot. 

Several times, Buffy found herself on the verge of confiding her concerns to Angel but since he was the reason she had summoned Cordelia, she couldn't think of a reasonable way to bring up the topic. "Hey, Angel, I think you've been behaving kind of weird so I asked Cordelia to come over to analyze you and now she's disappeared" simply didn't make for a good conservation opener. 

Ultimately, Buffy was at a complete loss as to Cordelia's location and could only wait and wonder, alone. If Cordelia didn't show up by morning, though, she would have to seek more help and possibly learn something she didn't want to know. 

***** 

Angelus prowled the upper rooms of the mansion, waiting for the sun to set. A big night lay ahead of him. Buffy had stuck inside the house all day, having made up some lame excuse about skipping classes so she could spend the free hours preparing for a big history exam that was to take place on Tuesday. Angelus was perfectly aware that she'd spent most of her time talking on the phone or waiting for it to ring, though he'd been careful to conceal that knowledge. Instead, under the pretext of allowing Buffy to work without the distraction of his presence, he had stayed upstairs nearly all day. His plan was to escape the second it became dark enough outside. The moment almost at hand, he was sure to make plenty of noise as he proceeded into the living room. Buffy was pretending to study and looked up inquisitively as he entered. 

"Everything going well?" Angelus asked, indicating Buffy's scuffed history book. 

"Oh, yeah. I should get an A on this test for sure. Well, at least a B." 

"Good. Does that mean you have time to patrol tonight? I was thinking we could go out together," Angelus suggested, silently willing Buffy to refuse. 

She didn't fail him. "I don't think I should go out. I really ought to review this material." She indicated a huge chunk of the textbook. 

Angelus nodded seriously and pretended to buy her excuse. "I'd be happy to patrol for you again." 

With a smile, Buffy accepted the offer and Angelus was on his way out the door with a cover story firmly in place. Of course, on these solo outings no real patrolling was involved. Hunting, however, was another matter. According to what Willow had said, the Initiative should be hamstrung by now. In the likely confusion, it might just be the perfect place to pick up an easy meal. 

Accordingly, Angelus made the Initiative grounds his first stop. He slunk around the outskirts, working his way closer and closer to the likeliest hunting grounds and keeping alert for any signs of security. Aside from one distracted-looking guard, he found no one. He bypassed the guard and weaved nearer to his goal. He was close enough to make out definite sounds that indicated disarray: shouting, hurrying footsteps, multiple ringing telephones. Willow had evidently done far more evil than she might ever realize. 

A pack of soldiers armed with rifles ran his way, passing within arm's length. None of them noticed the figure that blended in so smoothly with the shadows. Angelus swiveled his head and studied the members of the little group as they split up. Something was drawing him to a particular individual. He couldn't place his finger on precisely what, but the feeling was enough to make him decide he had tonight's supper in his sights. 

The soldier ran on, alone, and Angelus tracked him through the night. He thought the man's destination might be a graveyard, though since Sunnydale contained so many of those, it was an easy assumption to make. At any rate, wherever the goal, when his target paused to readjust his rifle it seemed the perfect moment to pounce. Angelus grabbed the man from behind in a stranglehold and bit deeply into his neck. The soldier tried to break free, bringing the butt of his rifle up and back, but Angelus wrenched it out of his grasp and continued to gulp the rich, hot blood. The struggles of the figure in his grasp grew more and more feeble before drawing to a halt. Finished with his meal, Angelus shoved the body into a convenient copse and looked idly on as it fell face up. _'Hmmm,'_ he thought. _'That looks like Riley's friend Graham, the one who helped Buffy not so long ago. That's why he seemed so familiar. Oh, well. Tasted pretty good.'_

He turned and skulked away, taking the quickest route to Sunnydale Cemetery. He was really quite interested in seeing how his experiment had turned out. The walk proved uneventful, though the flickering light near the Adamson crypt caused him some alarm until Angelus realized it was coming from one of Spike's infernal cigarettes. He relaxed and openly approached the crypt, guessing that matters were under control. 

"Took you damn long enough to get here," Spike complained as he walked up. 

Angelus shrugged. "I came as soon as I could. More or less. How'd things go here?" 

"Babysitting a corpse all day was not my idea of fun." Spike reached over and yanked open the door of the crypt. "Then she woke up. And *that* led to even less fun." 

Angelus looked inside the crypt to see Cordelia in full vampire face, staring out at him. 

Cordelia and Angelus stared at each other for a frozen second before Cordelia ruined the moment by slipping back into human guise. She reached up to feel her face and scowled when she found it smooth. "Damn it! It never stays when I want it to!" 

Angelus looked at Spike. "I'm beginning to think I might not want to know, but what's been happening here today?" 

"She woke up this afternoon, right on schedule, and I have to ask: Was she this much of a pain in the ass back when she was still alive? Because it seems hard to picture." 

Angelus glanced back at Cordelia. She was wrinkling her forehead and squinting grotesquely. "What the hell is wrong with her?" he asked Spike. 

"Hey!" Cordelia halted her efforts and glared at him. "*She* is in the crypt right next to you, thank you very much!" 

"Fine. I'll rephrase." Angelus patiently asked, "Cordelia, what the hell is wrong with you?" 

She scrunched up her face and felt it again before she relaxed her muscles. "I'm trying to switch into game face. Vampire face. Whatever you guys call it. I must be using the wrong muscles. Which ones do you use, Spike?" 

"I don't know. I just do it!" Spike's hands were involuntarily clenching and unclenching and a muscle in his jaw was working. He had the look of a vampire near the end of his rope. 

Angelus almost--not quite, but almost--felt a bit guilty about having saddled him with the newly arisen Cordelia. He grabbed the crypt door. "Keep practicing. Spike and I are just going to talk outside for a few minutes," he informed Cordelia before shutting the door in her face. 

Spike heaved a long sigh and lit a fresh cigarette. "She's a disaster as a vampire." 

Angelus looked away. "Well, what else could I do except turn her?" he defended himself. "I didn't use poor judgement for the sake of using poor judgement. You know I couldn't let her live once she found out the truth about me, but I couldn't simply kill her for good, either. Even at this very moment, Buffy is having all sorts of fits trying to figure out where Cordy got her ass off to. So, I cunningly invented the option of door number three, the risky but potentially rewarding course of turning the ditz so she can inform Buffy that I'm still the souled wonder. Besides, look at the other big benefit. Not only do I get to conceal my true identity, but I finally got to kill the whiny bitch." 

Spike flicked away his cigarette and ground it out. "Yeah, and that worked out so well, because now she's a whiny *immortal* bitch." 

"Good point. Well, once she's served her purpose I can dust her. Killing Cordelia twice is an appealing prospect." 

"You're making one huge assumption--that she'll be able to trick the Slayer. I have serious doubts about her ability to do just that. She's pathetic. At this point, she couldn't fool *anyone*. Anyway, even assuming she eventually manages to control her own appearance for five minutes on end, what if Buffy senses she's been turned?" 

"I'll be in the room, too," Angelus reminded him. "If her vampire sensors happen to go off, Buffy will probably think it's just because I'm there. Besides, you know her senses are hit and miss. Did she pick up on the fact that Angel was a vampire the first time she met him? Or the second? Or the time she bandaged his injuries? No, she didn't realize anything was amiss until he lost control and vamped out in front of her." 

"It's true she didn't pick up on me, either," Spike recalled. "First time I saw her, I was in the Bronze not 20 feet from her and she didn't turn a hair. Didn't even suss me out in the alley afterwards. If the idiot who was fighting her hadn't said my name, she wouldn't have had a clue." 

"Right. See?" Angelus agreed, relieved. "What are the odds she'll have any better luck with Cordelia? Now come on. We have to prepare her." Angelus swung the crypt door open. 

They entered to view Cordelia, who had progressed to uncontrollably flickering from vampire face to human and back. 

"It's hopeless," Spike declared. "She can't even handle her own appearance." 

"Once we feed her fresh blood, we'll see significant improvement," Angelus optimistically replied. 

"One can only hope," Spike muttered. 

Angelus ignored him and continued, "We need to have our game plan mapped out and make sure each of us understands our part. Me first. I go back to the mansion and report to Buffy on how patrol supposedly went. Make up some story about a slime demon or a three-headed vampire or whatever to gain her sympathy. She'll be thinking about me instead of Cordelia for a little while there. Meanwhile, you will be teaching Cordelia the very basics about being a vampire. Make sure she can stay in human face, and get her someone to eat. But don't let her try to hunt by herself because I don't think I can picture the range of that disaster. After an hour or two, you will make sure that Cordy gets in her car and drives up to the mansion, calm as can be, and knocks on the door like nothing is amiss. She will then feed Buffy a good lie about where she was, assure her that I am just like I was back in Los Angeles, and take off after about an hour of boring small talk. Buffy will be sure to feel guilty about doubting me, I will make sure to carefully rub it in, and things will be back to the way I want them." 

Spike growled, not looking terribly pleased. "What's wrong with this picture? Maybe the fact that I'm stuck doing the dirty work, again." 

"Don't look at it that way. Think of it as me trusting you to hold the pieces together. Without you, this plot has no chance of succeeding." 

"Not so sure it should." Spike cast a baleful look at the hapless Cordelia. "You're her sire. You're the one supposed to be teaching her." 

Angelus gratefully fell back on his built-in excuse of, "Buffy is expecting me." Seeing the mutinous expression on Spike's face, he reluctantly added, "I suppose I can stick around here for an hour or so, though." 

"I did it! I did it!" Cordelia crowed from behind them. 

They turned to look at her. Her vampiric ridges immediately slid away to be replaced by normal human features. Cordelia stamped her foot. "Oh, no. Why won't it stay like I want it to? I want to look like a *real* vampire!" 

Angelus and Spike exchanged glances. "We're going to need every second of that hour," Spike decided. 

"Well, Cordelia claims to be an actress," Angelus pointed out. "We'll soon see if she's right." 

* * *

Buffy managed to get in some studying while waiting for either Cordelia or Angel to show up. Not surprisingly, Angel was first to appear, reentering the house with a slight limp. 

"Angel, what happened?" Buffy asked as she ran to look him over. His shirt was ripped at the neck and the side and his right hand was scraped, but the injuries seemed minor. 

"I ran into a pack of vampires on the way home," he explained as he made his way to the couch. "There were so many that they gave me a little trouble." 

"Wait here." Buffy went to the kitchen to fetch a blood bag and returned to Angel, turning away before he could tear it open because she still wasn't comfortable with watching him feed. With her back to him, she thought out loud. "I'll have to tell Giles..." She stopped. There had been no telling Giles anything for a while now, and there might not ever be again. "I mean, I'll pay special attention when I patrol the rest of this week. I'll ask around at Willy's, too." When she heard Angel discard the empty bag, she went to sit beside him. His hand healed before her eyes as if he'd never been hurt. 

Angel held it up. "See? Good as new." 

"You were lucky," Buffy insisted. "I shouldn't have made you patrol alone. It's my responsibility anyway. Next time--" She was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. Angel's appearance had momentarily driven thoughts of Cordelia from her mind, but now they returned. It had to be her, didn't it? "I'll answer it," Buffy told Angel, and she walked to the door as quickly as she could without appearing too eager. _'Please be Cordelia, please be Cordelia,'_ she thought all the way. And when she opened the door, sure enough, the person she most wanted to see was on the other side. "Hey, Cordelia." Buffy had to fight to keep the relief out of her voice. Angel still didn't know she had phoned his friend, and she had no intention of letting that information slip. "What are you doing here?" 

"Nice to see you, too." Cordelia began to turn away from the door. "From your tone, I take it I'm not welcome?" 

"No," Buffy blurted. "I mean, yes! I mean, come in." 

"Thank you." Cordelia sidestepped her and entered. 

Buffy closed the door and followed her. "Angel, look, we have a visitor." 

"Yeah, I thought I'd drop in to say hi and bye, and let Angel know that if he ever returns to Los Angeles, he'll need a new secretary," Cordelia explained. 

Buffy watched with just a little jealousy as Angel and Cordelia hugged in greeting. They had never been close when both had lived in Sunnydale, and she hadn't been in Los Angeles to see the development of their friendship. Who could have ever predicted that those two would get along so well anyway? They were so different. Of course, Buffy and Cordelia had never been particularly good friends, either, and they'd had a lot more in common than Cordy and Angel ever did. 

Realizing that the two were looking at her curiously, Buffy shoved aside these thoughts and took a seat in the living room. Angel and Cordelia did as well, and an awkward silence descended. 

Buffy broke it. "So what have you been doing lately, Cordelia?" 

"Mostly auditions and acting classes. With Angel away, we don't have much business at the agency so I've had more time to devote to my career." 

"Yeah, your wonderful acting career," Angel said. "How that's been going?" 

"Picking up," Cordelia replied. "I almost snared a national commercial last week, and today I got this great offer to join a touring company." 

She began to rattle on about her big chance to become a star, but Buffy tuned her out and allowed her to converse mostly with Angel, as planned. Another reason, however, was that something about Cordelia seemed odd. Buffy couldn't quite put her finger on it at first. Then, as she continued to study the other girl, it struck her. Compared to her usual standards, Cordelia looked downright sloppy. Her makeup was minimal, her hair unkempt, and her clothing came on the lower end of the brand-name scale. She'd mentioned that business at Angel's agency had plummeted, so she must really be broke and unable to do any better. The "old" Cordelia would never have appeared in public looking this way. She had never been one to want pity, so Buffy decided not to mention her new circumstances and just kept her mouth shut. 

Eventually Cordelia seemed to have talked herself out. That was when Buffy realized she hadn't thought much about how things would actually work out once Cordelia arrived. Now that the situation had arisen, she saw that they needed to speak alone so she could get Cordelia's opinion without Angel hearing. The best way to do that was to keep her visitor around for a while. To that end, Buffy issued an impromptu invitation. "You can stay with us for at least a few days, right? We can catch up some more, and I'm sure lots of people would love to see you--like Xander, and your parents, and all your old friends." 

"You'd be very welcome," Angel added. "We obviously have plenty of room." 

Cordelia shook her head. "Sorry, no can do. That new job I told you about? It starts tonight." 

"What?" Buffy asked as she saw her plan slipping away. "That soon? But it can wait till at least morning, right?" 

"I'll lose my spot if I'm not there. This is my big break and I'm not giving it up. No way." 

Frustrated, Buffy revised her plans. "Angel, why don't you go in the kitchen and get our guest something to eat? Like a sandwich? Take your time." She hoped he would take her words to heart. She needed to quiz Cordelia in his absence. "Well, what do you think?" she asked once she was sure he was out of hearing range. 

Cordelia looked blank. "What do I think of what?" 

"Of the reason I called you here. To check out Angel." 

"Oh, that." Cordelia waved a dismissive hand. "He seems normal enough, for him. No need to worry." 

"Are you sure? You haven't talked to him all that much yet. He's definitely been different since he came back here. He has mood swings and I can't put my finger on it but something about his behavior worries me." 

"Oh, like he was never Brood Boy before?" 

"Can vampires be manic-depressive?" Buffy wondered. "Oh, forget it. I'll have to leave you two alone without him wondering why so you can examine things more closely. And what happened to you, anyway? You took so long getting here after I called that I thought you got in a car accident on the way or something." 

"Sorry, I didn't realize it was such a problem for you. I got an unexpected call to audition today and I figured you could wait a little longer." 

"A phone call to tell me some of this would have been nice," Buffy pointed out. 

"Well, I'm here now," Cordelia retorted. 

The tension eased as Angel walked back into the room and set Cordelia's sandwich plate on the coffee table. "Peanut butter and jelly. Enjoy." 

Buffy jumped up. "You know, I don't think a sandwich is enough food. I ought to go make Cordelia some coffee and soup. Keep her company while I'm in the kitchen." With that, she was gone. 

***** 

Angelus stared after Buffy. "What the hell...?" 

"She wanted to leave us alone so I can talk to you in private," Cordelia explained. She lapsed into demon face with an expression of relief. "Thank God she went away. I don't know how much longer I could have held out." 

Suspicion struck Angelus. "Spike did teach you how to control your face, didn't he?" 

Cordelia avoided his gaze. "Um, sure." 

"He didn't, did he? I knew I should have taught you myself instead of trusting him to take care of it." 

"He got me to switch to human and then he told me he'd stake me if I slipped out of it in front of Buffy." 

"I'm going to say the same thing to you now." Angelus growled in warning. "I've never turned a sorrier excuse for a vampire. Look, you're going to learn fast. And to be extra safe, when Buffy comes back in here, I'll make an excuse and leave the room. You tell Buffy I'm normal Angel and then get the hell out of here before you can ruin everything. Got it?" 

"Fine with me. I know when I'm not wanted." 

"That's new." 

"Hey, none of this is easy on me," Cordelia whined. "Even just being around Buffy is tough. I really, really want to bite her." 

Angelus nodded. "Understandable." 

"Plus she makes me really uncomfortable, like my skin itches more and more the closer she gets to me." 

"That's normal." 

"So can I kill her?" 

"No." 

Cordelia pouted. "It's not supposed to work this way. You're even more of a stick in the mud when you're evil than when you're being good. That is *so* not fair." 

"Deal with it. I have a plan, and nowhere does it involve you embedding even a tip of one fang in Buffy's neck. She is not for you." 

"Fine." Cordelia stomped over, picked up the sandwich, and lifted the top piece of bread before she let it flop back down. "You could have at least spread a little blood on this so it'd be edible." 

"You wanted me to bring you a peanut-butter-and-blood sandwich in front of Buffy?" Then Angelus considered. "Actually, that sounds like a pretty good combination. Might try it someday. But why are you so hungry? Didn't Spike feed you?" 

"Yeah, but that was a whole half an hour ago and he didn't even let me kill the person. I want to be a *real* vampire, stalking and attacking and murdering dozens of people a night. Leaving a trail of destruction in my wake. Getting a cool name like the Scourge of Europe because everyone for miles around is terrified of me." 

"If you tried any of that, you'd be dead again inside of a day. Being a scourge requires talent, resourcefulness, intelligence, and cunning. Among other things." 

"I have all those things," Cordelia insisted. "And, I can act." 

"In your nightmares. I'll settle for you fooling Buffy for tonight. Now let's practice some basics." 

Angelus spent the next little while making Cordelia morph back and forth. It was amazing how much better she did when he added the appropriate motivation, like threats and pain, to the equation. See, all she needed was a little extra incentive, like a twisted wrist or a fist to the gut. It was quite simple, really. Cordelia was progressing nicely when Angelus heard the tell-tale signs of Buffy's return. 

"She's coming. Change back," he warned. 

Aided by a blow to the head, by the time Buffy returned with the soup and coffee, Cordelia had plastered on her human mask and was ready to confront her. 

Generously making things easier on Buffy, Angelus quickly said, "I accidentally brought one of Cordelia's books with me when I packed to come to Sunnydale. Let me go upstairs and get it before I forget." His departure would, of course, provide sufficient opportunity for Buffy to pounce on Cordelia with her questions. Angelus sprinted upstairs, grabbed the first book he saw on the shelf, and loped back downstairs to eavesdrop. The first words he caught came from Cordelia. 

"Look, Buffy, people change. Grow up and accept it. Angel was not going to stay the exact same forever. You're not the same as you used to be, either, you know, but you don't catch him asking me to check up on you." 

"Well, you've changed less than I thought at first," Buffy replied with a decided snap to her voice. 

"Don't be so sure." 

Angelus had heard enough. Cordelia had told Buffy that "Angel" was okay. If he allowed her to keep talking, she might just blow the whole situation. He stepped back into the room, effectively halting the conversation between the women. "Here's your book, Cordelia." For the first time, he looked at the cover. He'd picked up Nietzsche's "The Birth of Tragedy." An unfortunate choice, given that he couldn't imagine Cordelia ever wanting to read it or even being able to correctly pronounce the author's name. 

Buffy apparently shared his feelings, as she stared at the book and then at Cordelia. "You read that?" 

"Oh, yeah, 'Nee-etz-skee,'" Cordelia sounded out as she accepted the volume, "is a great author. Thanks, Angel. Well, I gotta be on my way. Nice seeing you and all. I won't forget any of you once I'm famous." She swept out of the house before Angelus or Buffy could make a move to stop her, even if either of them had wanted to. 

In her wake, Buffy shook her head and looked at the plate lying on the coffee table. "And she didn't even touch her sandwich." 

* * *

Cordelia was undead and soon to be dust. The Initiative was in a state of chaos. Buffy had been tricked. 

Angelus was having a particularly fine day. Well, night. He smiled. 

Buffy looked at him strangely and he quickly lied, "I was just thinking about how great it was to see Cordelia again. I know it still seems hard to believe, but we developed quite a friendship while working together. She got off to a rocky start but working at Angel Investigations turned out to be good for her and she was an asset to the team." 

"Right." Buffy looked a bit skeptical of Cordelia's value but she didn't comment further on it and instead went about the living room collecting the dishes. When she had all of them, she carried them into the kitchen, with Angelus following. 

Angelus watched as Buffy threw away the food Cordelia hadn't even tasted. Then she took the pot of soup off the stove and went to pour the remains down the drain. He raised an eyebrow at this move. "There's plenty left. Aren't you going to have any?" 

"No, I'm not hungry," Buffy replied, proceeding with the task. "Besides, it's probably terrible. You know I'm not much of a cook and I made this pretty fast." 

"You were willing to inflict it on Cordelia," Angelus pointed out, trying to hide the admiration he felt. 

"Oh. Well, you know," Buffy said, looking away. "It would have been rude not to offer her something." 

"Even something that might have given her food poisoning?" Which sounded fitting, as far as Angelus was concerned. 

Buffy slowly turned around to look at him. 

He'd gone a little too far with that last comment, obviously. "Just joking. I'm sure you tried your best. We wouldn't want anything bad to happen to Cordelia, would we?" 

Buffy nodded and finished up at the sink. "I'm going to go take care of my homework. You coming?" 

"In a few minutes. I want to get a snack first." When Buffy had left, Angelus went over to the refrigerator and made himself a peanut-butter sandwich. After a little more thought, he carefully poured a cup of blood over it, saturating the bread. He'd earned a treat. 

***** 

Buffy managed to make some real progress on her homework for the first time in days. Cordelia's assurances had lightened the burden on her mind. She'd told Buffy what she had wanted to hear, and been quite firm about it. Buffy's suspicions had been groundless. She was even feeling guilty about having had doubts to begin with. Not guilty enough to confess to Angel, though. She wasn't sure how understanding he would be of the fact that she had gone behind his back to get answers from Cordelia rather than sharing her concerns with him. No, it was better that he didn't know. 

Buffy set aside her completed World War II essay and winced as she recalled how pushy she'd been with Cordelia, to the point of offending her. Oh, well. Her intentions had been good, and she and Cordelia were never going to be best friends anyway. Then again, even a year ago the idea of Angel becoming any sort of friends with Cordelia would have seemed ridiculous and look at them now. 

While she was thinking about Cordelia... if anything about her visit had seemed odd, it was her eagerness to leave. She'd acted like she couldn't get out of Sunnydale fast enough, though she'd had a reasonable enough excuse. She'd needed to get to her new job. That was perfectly understandable, at least if taken at face value. The thought did, however, lead Buffy on a tangent. 

When Angel came back into the living room after finishing his snack, Buffy brought up the topic she'd been mulling over. "Angel? What sort of actress is Cordelia?" 

"What do you mean?" he asked as he picked up her essay and skimmed it. 

"Is she good? I mean, I wouldn't expect her to be Meryl Streep already, but is she decent?" 

There was a pause before Angel said, "Her style is very interesting. I've never seen anything else quite like her onstage." 

"She must be pretty good, I guess. I mean, she got a job with this touring company and from what she said, it sounded like they were looking for a while before they picked her so it's not like they were willing to take just anyone. I hope she keeps in touch while she's away. When people leave Sunnydale, sometimes you don't hear much from them." Buffy thought of her father and Oz. 

Angel was briefly silent and at first she thought he hadn't been paying attention to her latest ramble. Then she realized that the subject appeared to cause him pain. He finally said, "You could be describing me. I tried to give you space for your own good but I've learned my lesson. Believe me, you'd have a hard time getting rid of me now." 

"As opposed to Cordelia, who couldn't run out of her fast enough," Buffy said ruefully. "But it was her big chance. And what could I say to her? Drop us a postcard sometime if you're not too busy becoming a star?" 

"I doubt Cordelia will ever become so big-headed from fame that she'll forget about us little people," Angel replied. "I just don't see her future heading that way." He handed back the essay with several corrections scrawled across it. 

"Thanks." Buffy pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and began a rewrite, while Angel resumed reading a huge old demonology text he'd been plowing through for days. Soon Buffy's pen began to move more and more slowly across the page. She'd lost interest in the topic and her mind wandered to other concerns. She wondered what her mother was doing, or Giles, or Xander or even Anya. She'd more or less made up with Willow. Surely the others would be willing to come around, now that they'd had some time to get used to the idea of her being with Angel again. 

Unable to continue with her school work while these thoughts nagged at her, Buffy came to a decision. She was going to make another attempt to reconcile with her mom and her friends, as soon as she figured out the best way to approach them. 

* * *

Scrape. 

Bump. 

Clatter. 

These sounds would have gone unnoticed by most individuals, they were so quiet. But Angelus, who possessed exceptional hearing and also happened to be lying awake in bed despite the fact that dawn was looming, did hear them. 

He quickly got out of bed, threw on some clothes, and crept toward the stairs, warily listening all the way. He had his reasons for not waking Buffy, who remained obliviously sleeping. 

Down the stairs, a few more steps, then into the living room, and there it was. Angelus had found the source of the noise. It was Spike, invading the peace of his home once more. He had settled onto the sofa with a mug of blood and had flicked on only one lamp to provide minimal lighting. 

"Spike, what the hell are you doing here now?" Angelus demanded in a low voice that nevertheless managed to convey his irritation. 

Not seeming to notice or care that his presence was undesired, Spike replied, "I wanted to find out how things went. If Cordelia managed to trick the Slayer." 

Angelus relaxed slightly and dropped into the chair nearest to Spike. "Didn't Cordy tell you what happened when she met with you afterwards?" 

Spike shrugged. "Yeah, said she put on a masterful performance, deserved the vampire version of an Oscar, that sort of thing. Nothing I haven't heard the likes of before. What I want is the truth." 

Reassured when he could detect no signs of Buffy stirring, Angelus settled in for a talk. "Under my direction, she managed to do a credible job. I consider it a success. Though if I hadn't been around to monitor, we would have had yet another disaster on our hands. Instead of tricking Buffy, Cordelia wanted to try to kill her." 

"My kind of vampire," Spike said with obvious approval. 

"What?" Angelus stared at him. "You must be joking. I'm almost ashamed to have turned the bitch. She's an embarrassment to the family name. The only good thing about her continued existence is the fact that I can kill her again, now that she's fed her lies to Buffy and outlived her usefulness. So where is she, anyway?" 

"Oh. About that." Spike glanced away and took a sip of blood. "She's an actress, right. So I got an idea about what to do with her. A good idea, mind." 

Angelus glared at him. "This already sounds bad. What, exactly, did you take it upon yourself to do without my permission, knowledge, or approval?" 

"There's such a thing as a demon acting troupe that crosses the country every year, and Cordelia's traveling with it," Spike said in a rush. 

"So that's why she still didn't know how to morph by the time she showed up here to talk to Buffy?" Angelus demanded. "Because during the time you were supposed to be teaching her, instead you were arranging an acting job for her?" 

"Yeah, and it wasn't easy. I had to call in some favors and threaten five demons before they agreed to take her on," Spike informed him. "They were just leaving Los Angeles last night. Perfect timing." 

"Shit." Angelus reined in his fury and took two deep breaths, trying to make himself calm down. True, he was pissed that he'd been cheated of the pleasure of offing Cordelia for the second time. On the other hand, throttling Spike on the spot wouldn't help him. 

While Angelus was still getting his emotions under control, Spike continued to speak. "'Sides, it's not like it'll affect anything. The Slayer won't be alive much longer anyway. Seems like this is the right time to kill her." 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Angelus snapped, his attempt to control his temper failing spectacularly. "I'm not nearly ready to make such a drastic move." 

Spike snorted. "And you never will be unless you follow my lead. You're procrastinating. Have been for ages. Fact is, I'm sick of waiting. It's all I've been doing, that and being your errand boy, and it wasn't fun even in the beginning." 

"Spike, what we have here is a massive failure to communicate. Now, listen carefully, and remember what I'm about to say, because it's simple. I am in charge. I have always been in charge. Whatever I say goes." 

Spike's eyes narrowed and turned amber as he shifted to game face. "About time I got more of a say, isn't it? Been here doing your dirty work and following your orders for too long." 

Angelus also morphed. "Some of us are meant to be leaders, and some of us are meant to be followers. Keep that in mind." 

He thought the matter was settled when Spike nodded and shifted as if to back down, but in the next second realized he was wrong. Instead of giving in as usual, Spike leaped up and bolted for the stairs. He was closer to them than Angelus and also had the element of surprise, which gave him a significant lead. 

Angelus immediately pursued him. If Spike reached the top of the stairs first, he would have access to the sharp ornamental sword hanging on the wall there and he could easily fight off any challenges. They raced up the stairs, Angelus gaining slowly but Spike still holding a clear lead. He was almost at the top. Angelus took the only option open to him. He lunged forward, grabbed Spike by one ankle, and pulled. Together, they slid all the way down the stairs to land with a crash at the bottom. 

Spike recovered from the impact first and gouged at Angelus' eyes. Angelus quickly punched him in the gut, and Spike kicked him in the shin in retaliation. They briefly scuffled, neither gaining a real advantage, until Angelus deliberately turned onto his back. Spike closed in, trying to get within biting range. Before he could move into position, Angelus kicked him in the stomach with both legs, sending Spike into the wall behind them. 

Rather than continue the fight on the ground floor, Angelus struggled to his feet and ran up the stairs to take up a defensive position. If Spike tried to get past him, he would have a very difficult time of it. They eyed each other, Spike glowering from the base of the stairs and Angelus blocking his path. 

"Leave town now, Spike," Angelus ordered. "I won't warn you again." 

"Fine, mate." Spike contemptuously spat a mouthful of blood onto the carpet. "You're on your own. You've just lost yourself one partner. Mark my words, you'll regret this night's work." 

"I'll take that chance." 

They bristled at each other from opposite ends of the stairs, but the standoff was broken when Buffy's sleepy voice called, "Angel? Where are you?" 

He switched back to his human face in case she came into the hallway and turned his head to answer. "Right here." 

Her voice got louder, like she was moving toward the bedroom door. "What was that noise?" 

"I dropped something." 

"It must have been big," Buffy replied. 

"Oh, it was." Angelus glanced down the stairs, only to see that Spike had vanished. Good. He had done the smart thing. Knowing he couldn't beat both Buffy and Angelus, he had run. Even at that moment, he must be thinking of the nearest place he could hide his ass while the sun was up. He probably had all of 15 minutes to find a suitable location or he'd burn. 

The bedroom door clicked open, and Buffy poked her head into the hallway. "Come back to bed, Angel. You're going to need all the rest you can get. Remember, I 'm going to try to make up with my mom tonight, and I want you to be there." 

"Right," Angelus replied, taking one last look down the stairs. He didn't have time to pursue Spike, plus he was hoping his warning would work and Spike would leave on his own that evening. He wouldn't go off and do anything reckless instead, would he? 

Wait. Who was he kidding? This was act-first, think-later Spike, who had the least patience of anyone Angelus knew. Not staking him might have been a big mistake. Angelus only hoped Spike would leave quietly and not cause him any more trouble, but he was already developing serious doubts. 

* * *

The following afternoon, Angelus thought long and hard about how he could best sabotage Buffy's attempt to reconcile with her mother that evening. He didn't want the two to connect but he wasn't sure how he could ruin the meeting without getting the blame for it. He finally decided that he would just have to go with Buffy, behave while she was around, and hope a prime opportunity to cause trouble would present itself. Joyce didn't even know they would be coming over, so they were likely to upset her merely by showing up in the first place. 

Buffy had gone back to school that morning and arranged to meet him just after dusk at her mom's so they could go in together. She had said it was so they could present a united front and show her mother they were there as a team. The time crawled nearer, and Angelus began to brace himself for what might well be an excruciating evening spent making nice with the bitch. He wasn't resigned to the situation, but he was at least prepared for it, when his cell phone rang. 

"Hello?" he answered cautiously. Buffy was the only one he could think of who would be calling him, considering that he was on the outs with Spike and Cordelia was out of his hair. 

"Angel," Buffy, as expected, replied. "I wanted you to know, I'm going to be late tonight. I got a message that one of my professors wants to talk to me so I won't be able to make it to my mom's on time. How about we meet an hour after sunset instead?" 

"Sounds good," Angelus agreed, for once being honest. The bonus hour would allow him time to cook up a sufficiently evil plot. He mused over his options until he was satisfied that he had come up with a suitable approach. He would go to see Joyce on his own before Buffy arrived. He would then insult and/or frighten her before leaving to meet Buffy. Of course, when she showed up and tried to enter the house with him, Joyce would probably simply slam the door in their faces. Even if she did complain about how Angelus had seen her alone first, he could either deny the entire accusation or else dispute key parts of the story. Who would Buffy believe: her "loving" boyfriend or her bitchy mom? He was the clear choice. 

When it came time to leave, the evening was cool and pleasant. Angelus opted to walk to Revello Drive so he could grab supper along the way. After a pit stop to dine on a teenage Stop 'n Shop employee, he continued on his way and soon arrived outside the house. He paused, then rang the doorbell. 

No answer. 

He rang again, and again. Still no one came. With a shrug, Angelus tried the door. The house was unlocked. He promptly let himself in. If Joyce happened to be home already, she would be pissed that he had entered without her permission. If she wasn't around, when she did show up she would be pissed that he had made himself at home. Either way, he won. 

He cocked his head and concentrated. She must not be home. He'd thought he'd sensed a heartbeat as he stood on the doorstep but it must have been coming from a neighbor's house instead. Too bad. It would be most convenient if she showed up before Buffy, though, so he could torment her a bit. 

Angelus glanced around. In the brief time that he had, what could he do that would most annoy the witch? Maybe if he.... 

He stopped thinking and his nostrils flared; he smelled blood. Fresh, luscious blood calling out to him. The smell came from the kitchen. Angelus followed it. 

The kitchen door was closed. He pushed it open, took a step inside, and stopped dead. What the hell? A stunning sight met his eyes: Joyce's limp, lifeless body, blood still trickling from the puncture wounds in her neck, was propped up against the counter. The back door was wide open. Angelus ran over and looked outside. "Shit!" he yelled. Spike, already several houses away, was sprinting toward the safety of his parked DeSoto. He was almost there already. Trying to follow him would do no good; Angelus knew he couldn't catch up before Spike took off, and he had no chance of outrunning a speeding vehicle. 

With a growl, he retreated inside the house. "Dammit, Spike. I wanted to be the one to kill her." He'd thought Spike was sure to leave town after last night, but the bastard couldn't go quietly, could he? He'd just put a major dent in Angelus' grand schemes. Although, Angelus was reluctantly forced to admit, this fact in itself was rather admirable. Spike had obviously learned from the master. 

And all might not be lost. Joyce's death had been in the works for a while. True, Angelus had not expected to kill her for some time yet, but he had always known she had to die. Spike had merely accelerated matters, not to mention how he had robbed Angelus of the pleasure of committing the act. Still, it was no use crying over spilled blood. 

Somewhat calmed, Angelus paced over and examined the body. The wound was clear evidence of the cause of Joyce's demise. For those who knew of the existence of vampires, there would be no convincing them that her death had been due to anything else. Buffy would immediately see the truth. Angelus would have to leave, "innocently" meet with her, go inside the house at the same time, and pretend to be shocked and dismayed by Joyce's horrific death. His game plan had to be altered. 

Oh, well. He couldn't change what had happened. For instance, Joyce was already dead, and freshly so. There was certainly no sense in letting decent blood go to waste. Angelus bent his head and began to drink. 

Buffy walked in. 

TBC


	19. The End

_Previously: Spike and Angelus had a falling out. Angelus, who planned to drive another wedge between Joyce and Buffy, arrived at the Summers' house to find Joyce dead and Spike running away. Buffy walked in on Angelus drinking her mother's blood._

***** 

In the middle of history class that afternoon, Buffy had received a note stating that Professor Jacobs wanted to meet with her in his office early that evening. Her heart had leaped into her throat. She knew her grade in literature class had been suffering lately and she had a feeling she was about to get a deserved lecture. 

Calculating that the appointment would make her late for her meeting with Angel at her mother's, Buffy made a quick phone call to him to move that time by one hour. Then she went to see the professor, braced for bad news, only to learn that he had not sent the note. "There must have been a misunderstanding," he offered. 

Reprieved and not too interested in questioning why, Buffy headed right to her mother's house. This time, she didn't inform Angel of the change in time. He would show up after about half an hour anyway, and she thought she could use the extra time before then to talk to her mom alone and try to soften her up. If she could make a little headway, everything would work out fine. 

At least, Buffy believed this up until the moment she walked into the kitchen to find Angel with his fangs sunk into Joyce's throat. 

She gasped and stopped dead in her tracks, and Angel looked up and snarled, displaying his bloody mouth. 

In the next instant, his features smoothed and his fangs receded. "Buffy, I can explain--" 

She remembered that day just a few years ago when she had entered the kitchen to find Angel poised in a similar position over her mother's bleeding body. That time, he had been innocent. But this time... "Get your hands off my mother, Angelus." Buffy was surprised at how steady her voice sounded. 

"What do you--" the vampire began as he gently released the body and stepped back. 

Buffy interrupted. "Don't bother making up another lie. Somehow you managed to fool me before but you can't talk your way out of this one. You're not Angel. He would never feed off of my mother. You're his demon, and you are the most disgusting evil thing I've ever seen." 

Angelus backed away as she went over to her mother's body. Joyce's eyes were open and glassy; nothing could be done for her. A fresh realization struck Buffy as she turned on the demon. "It was you. You had the nerve to arrange for that fake note to be delivered to me in class, to lure me away so you would have extra time to sneak in and kill my mom." 

Angelus had the audacity to look innocent and surprised, though at least he didn't deny his true identity. "I didn't send a note." 

"Shut up!" Buffy yelled. "Enough lies! You are completely sick. What did you plan to do, meet me out front and then pretend to discover my mother's body for me? Were you going to help with the funeral preparations? Pick out the casket?" 

"I didn't kill her," Angelus interjected. "Spike had that honor." 

"Oh, like I'm going to believe that lie." Buffy took a pace forward; Angelus took one backward, maintaining the distance between them. "Spike left Sunnydale last year and hasn't been heard from since. Plus, he wasn't the one found with his filthy fangs embedded in my mother's neck. Explain that away, you fucking bastard." 

Angelus actually looked a little pleased at being called such a name. "Spike has been in town for weeks. He killed Joyce on his own. I came in and found the body, but he was too far away to catch." 

"And you decided to snack on my mom while you were here," Buffy stated flatly, feeling in her pocket for a stake. 

Angelus shrugged. "Wherever she's going, she doesn't need blood anymore. Why not let her posthumously donate it to me?" 

Buffy stared at him. It was the demon. It wasn't Angel. He had killed her mother, lied about it, and dishonored her memory, all in the space of a few minutes. She had to kill him. 

Swiftly closing in while Angelus was unprepared, Buffy struck out. Her blow landed in the middle of his chest, forcing him back against the counter. She closed in for another hit; Angelus parried and swiped at her face. Dodging, Buffy left her side unprotected and the demon kicked her leg, causing her to stumble back. He had gained the advantage and pressed it, raining blows on her head, chest, and stomach. Buffy was reduced mainly to defending herself in the confined space of the kitchen. She was still holding her own, though, countering hits and landing some herself, until she tripped over her mother's body and landed awkwardly on her back on the floor. A sharp pain ran up her left arm as she began to push herself up. Before she could regain her feet, Angelus pounced and pinned her with his superior weight. All Buffy could do was struggle helplessly and watch while his gleaming teeth shot toward her bared throat. And then they turned away, snapping shut on air. "This isn't what I planned but since it's started, there's no going back, Buff." A moment later, his weight was gone as the demon leaped up and away, retreating out the back door. 

Panting, Buffy pushed herself up and started after him, but the sharp pain in her left arm made her think twice about renewing the fight. She had taken the worst of things so far and should have been dead, while Angelus was sauntering away, not even bothering to monitor her over his shoulder. She'd never even had a chance to use her stake. 

"Son of a bitch!" she yelled after his retreating form. It made her feel a little better, but then, it probably made him feel better, too, like it was a compliment, so she hadn't really gained anything from it. 

She leaned against the doorway, gently rubbing her arm, and tried to make some sense out of things. The main thought that kept trying to push itself forward was the fact that her mother was dead. Buffy ruthlessly shoved it back down. She couldn't dwell on that reality yet. Angelus was back. He wouldn't just leave her alone. Not now. He would want to torment her as thoroughly as possible. That was why he hadn't killed her when he'd just had her pinned. It would have been too quick and easy; he hadn't made her suffer for long enough. His last reign of terror had given her some insight into how his twisted mind worked, and she had to use that knowledge to her advantage. 

Buffy concentrated and settled on the certainty that Angelus wanted to hurt her, mentally. He'd already landed a critical blow but he could do so much more. His next step would probably be to go after one of her friends, and he had the whole night in which to do it. Well, he wasn't going to reach any of them if she could help it. Buffy grabbed the phone and dialed Willow's number. 

Two rings later, Willow's voice answered. Buffy cut into her greeting. "Willow, don't ask questions. Just listen. Go somewhere you're sure Angel doesn't have an invitation and stay there all night. Don't come out until daylight, no matter what. I mean this; it's a matter of life and death. And call Giles, Xander, Anya, and Tara and tell them the same thing. You should all be safe if you do this. Then tomorrow morning, meet me at my mom's house at 10. All of you." She paused just long enough for Willow to make a sound of assent before continuing. "One more thing. The curse that restored Angel's soul--do you have a copy handy? And how about another Orb of Thesulah?" 

***** 

As he strolled away from Buffy and her (delightfully dead) mother's house, Angelus licked his lips and grimaced at the aftertaste. Joyce's blood had been a little on the sour side. He preferred them younger and fresher. However, a meal was a meal, and a dead bitch counted double. Even if he *had* been deprived of the pleasure of killing her himself. 

He considered his options and concluded that Buffy and her friends would soon be anxiously anticipating his next strike and scheming up a way to cram that disgusting soul back into him. Still, Orbs of Thesulah weren't exactly thick on the ground so he should have a little leeway. Sure that Buffy expected him to go hunting for one of her friends next, he therefore did not. He was off to make sure that any attempt to use the gypsy curse to violate him would be doomed to failure. Last time he'd been free, he had been unprepared and overconfident. This time, he would remain several steps ahead of his opponents. 

Deliberately bypassing the most predictable course of action, Angelus set out for Willy's Bar. When he arrived he paused in the doorway, waiting. As on his previous visit when he'd been posing as Angel, the demons scattered about the place regarded him with reactions ranging from indifference to scorn. Angelus distinctly heard a reference to the "vampire pansy" from a booth in the nearest corner. 

He made his unhurried way over to stand beside the Relko demon that had made the inaccurate observation. The thing had bulging eyes, pointed ears, and a flat nose. It resembled a giant gremlin, only with brown, scaly skin instead of fur. "Say that again, to my face," Angelus ordered. 

The demon grunted but did not repeat the insult when confronted. Perhaps it sensed that it had made a serious mistake. Angelus shrugged and punched a hole through its stomach to its heart anyway. He withdrew his hand, dripping in gray slime, and wiped it on the demon's discarded coat. 

The room had fallen very silent. 

Deliberately, Angelus proceeded to the bar. Every eye in the place was pinned upon him, even those of creatures desperately pretending not to be interested. 

"Good evening, Willy," Angelus greeted the only human in the place, who was cowering behind the bar. 

"H-hi, Angel." Willy bowed his head and scrubbed at a stain on the wood with a grubby rag, succeeding only in further dirtying the spot. 

Angelus shook his head. "No, Willy. Let's get something straight up front. The name's Angelus." 

Although he spoke softly, Willy started and his eyes flew up to study Angelus' face before he shifted his gaze away. "I-I," he said miserably. 

Since he needed assistance from the lowlife that required coherent vocalization, Angelus took pity on him. "Just nod." 

Jerkily, Willy did so. "Welcome back, Angelus," he managed to utter. 

"Why, thank you. It's good to hear that." Smoothly, Angelus took a seat at the bar. "Give me your best Bloody Mary, heavy on the blood, and then we can talk business." 

With trembling fingers, Willy obeyed. He then took a half-step back, which appeared to be as far as he dared to retreat. 

After a few appreciative sips of his drink, Angelus continued. "I need information, I need it now, and I need it from you. Who's the most powerful witch or wizard in town who would be willing, or could be 'persuaded,' to help me out with a little problem?" 

A muscle in Willy's face twitched. "Um, ah, that's a tough one, see--" 

"A name, Willy." Angelus beckoned to him, offering, "You can whisper it if you want." 

Willy looked like he wanted to do nothing *less* than lean forward and murmur into Angelus' ear. "No, that's okay, I can say it. Uh, I think you want Madam Verde, corner of 15th and Crescent." 

"Madam Verde," Angelus repeated. "Well, thanks, Willy. You've been a real help, just like I knew you would be." He leisurely finished off his drink and stood up to leave. "Oh, by the way, if the Slayer happens to stop by, you didn't see me." 

Probably relieved to have gotten off without so much as a bruise, Willy smiled weakly. 

Angelus glanced around the bar one last time and then went on his way, amused at the buzz of excited chatter that broke out in his wake. This time, the tones consisted of awe, shock, and fear. So much more impressive than the derision and laughter "Angel's" appearance elicited. And some had the gall to question his standing as the superior demon? 

*** 

It was a subdued group that met at Buffy's the following morning. They'd safely made it through the night without spotting Angelus, but Joyce's demise had come as a huge, horrible shock to everyone. Buffy had officially reported her death as being due to an animal attack because as Anya pointed out, claiming Joyce had fallen on another barbecue fork and bled to death would have been stretching the bounds of believability. Willow performed an uninvite spell to ban Angelus from being able to enter the house again, and then Buffy filled everyone in with the detailed version of events. Her story still had a lot of holes in it; for instance, she didn't know exactly when or how Angel's soul had been lost. Still, she related all the information she could, including Willow's attack on the Initiative computer banks, and braced herself for the reactions. 

For a few moments after she finished, no one spoke. Aside from dealing with Angelus, they would have to arrange Joyce's funeral and they weren't sure exactly what to say to Buffy. 

Eventually, Xander broke the silence with a rambling observation. "So, how long was he Angelus instead of Angel, do you think? I mean, he lost his soul just yesterday, right? 'Cause you weren't with the demon more than a day or so, Buffy. I mean, you couldn't have been because that would be gross beyond words." He looked at Buffy's expression and his own turned sick. "Okay. I see. Excuse me. I think I'm going to go and puke for about a month." 

"You and me both," Buffy agreed. "You're just thinking about it, but I lived it." She squared her shoulders. "Well, it's over now and it can't be changed. Puking will have to wait. We have an evil demon to defeat." 

Willow shook her head. "I still can't believe he was able to trick us into thinking he was Angel." 

"Don't bother to be polite," Buffy said. "What you really mean is, you can't believe Angelus tricked *me*. He barely spent any time with you guys, but he was around me most of the time and I still couldn't put things together." 

Xander spoke up. "In that case, I suspected the truth all along." 

"No, you didn't," Anya interjected. "You didn't have the first clue." 

"You didn't want to believe he'd gone bad," Tara pointed out to Buffy. "And his entire intent was to deceive you. Don't blame yourself." 

"It's hard not to, when my mother is dead because of my mistake," Buffy replied grimly. "But my priority now is to get rid of Angelus." She turned to Willow. "You can curse Angel with his soul again, right? You did a great job the other time and maybe this time you could get a little creative and kind of just remove the happiness clause so we never have to worry about a return visit from Angelus." 

"Oh, boy." Willow looked away. "Buffy, it isn't that simple. I've thought about this a lot, and I'm pretty sure removing the clause isn't something you can do and expect the curse to still work. It's probably a package deal, all or nothing." 

"Oh." Buffy sighed in disappointment. "I guess you'll have to do the entire curse, then. That at least will get rid of Angelus and give us back Angel." 

"Hey!" Xander protested. "No way! We can't risk Angel experiencing perfect happiness again. Don't recurse him. Stake his ass instead." 

"I know the curse has its drawbacks," Buffy admitted. "But this is Angel we're talking about. He didn't do anything wrong and I don't want to lose him." 

"Last time you were thinking that way, you let that monster live and he murdered Jenny Calendar," Xander countered, his voice rising. 

"Angel didn't kill anyone," Buffy stubbornly repeated. "He isn't responsible for the actions of his demon. I won't sacrifice him unless it's absolutely necessary. There's got to be a way to stop Angelus from doing any more harm. Maybe I can capture him and we can keep him locked up until Willow performs the spell." 

"Do you really think that'll be easy? Anyway, what happens the next time Angel goes off and has a happy? Who dies then? Angelus does more damage each time he's around." 

"Let's let Giles decide what we should do," Tara suggested before the discussion could grow any more heated. 

Everyone turned to him and waited. 

While all eyes rested upon him, Giles was silent in thought. Then he said, "The curse is a fast way to get the situation back under control, at least for a time. Willow still has a copy of it--actually, more than one--stored in multiple locations for safety's sake. The only truly rare item we need is an Orb of Thesulah, and Angelus knows that. It's a safe bet that he's attempted to rid the nearby area of any existing Orbs. However, we can try to rush-order one from Los Angeles or another major city." 

"We'll call around and find one," Willow offered, indicating herself and Tara. 

"So you're going to let that animal roam free, killing whoever he wants?" Xander burst out. 

Giles looked steadily at him. "We will try the curse first. However, if anyone runs into Angelus before it can be cast, use any force necessary. Is that understood?" 

Buffy watched as Xander slowly nodded. He didn't appear to be satisfied with the plan, though. In fact, he had the look of someone who was determined to go Angelus-hunting as soon as possible. 

***** 

Giles looked up from the phone he had just replaced in its cradle. "I tried to call Wesley in Los Angeles. Unfortunately, he isn't answering the telephone." 

"Do you think something happened to him?" Willow said tentatively. 

"It is a distinct possibility, though we should by no means regard it as a probability," Giles replied. "He might merely have gone out to lunch, or isn't answering his phone for some other perfectly logical reason." 

"What about Cordelia?" Tara questioned. 

"She was just in Sunnydale," Buffy explained. "She came to visit me and Angel. Angelus. Whoever he was then. Se wasn't going back to Los Angeles after that, though. She has a new job with some acting company that's traveling the country so she could be anywhere, for all I know." 

"At least she's safe," Xander responded. "Right now she's in the best place possible--away from Angelus." 

Stirred into action by these words, Buffy grabbed a few stakes off of the coffee table and stood up. "I'm going to go out and try to find him now, before anything else can happen." 

"Where do you think he is?" Anya asked. 

"The sewers, a warehouse, a cave, a crypt. There are tons of possibilities. I'll just hope I get lucky and find the right place." 

"What about the mansion?" Xander suggested. 

Buffy shook her head. "That's too obvious. He wouldn't go back there. But someone, somewhere, has to have seen him." 

"Or the trail of bodies he's sure to have left behind," Xander muttered. 

Ignoring him, Buffy went on, "Willy might know something. I'll start at his place. If any of you guys decide to search, be careful and don't go anywhere there isn't sunlight." She left the others to do whatever they wanted and headed outside. It was a relief to be away from the tense atmosphere and, more specifically, Xander's snide comments. The worst part was that his observations, while bluntly phrased, were all true so she had little defense against them. 

As she had told the others, she considered Willy's Bar to be a good starting point and her steps went in that direction. The outside world looked so peaceful and trouble-free, she reflected as she walked. The weak afternoon sunlight at least provided protection from vampires and she willed it to last until she had tracked down the most dangerous one of all. 

She reached a cross street and stopped to allow a line of large trucks to roll past. They were moving heavily, as if they were packed with weighty equipment. Buffy glanced at the front window of the third truck and, with a start, recognized three Initiative members. Another few familiar faces were in the next vehicle, and the next. 

Buffy waited for the procession to go by. Judging from the appearance of the trucks and passengers, and the direction they were heading, if she had to guess she would say the Initiative was leaving town. All, of course, except for the members who had recently been killed or kidnapped. This thought naturally led to memories of one particular Initiative soldier: Riley. 

Buffy felt her throat constrict and she had to fight back tears. Riley had been right about Angelus, and now he was missing, almost certainly dead. If only she'd listened to him, believed him, he might still be around. He hadn't deserved to die. Angelus had probably tortured him first, treating him like some sick kind of toy.... 

Refusing to allow herself to dwell on this latest disturbing subject, Buffy forced it out of her mind and turned her thoughts toward reaching Willy's as quickly as possible. Soon she entered the bar. The place was almost deserted, with just a few unimportant demons lounging at one of the tables and a couple sitting at the bar. They both slid off of their stools once they saw that she was heading their way, but today Buffy had no interest in them. She allowed them to slink out the door while she confronted the bartender. 

"Willy. Come here." 

He left the cash register and walked over to her. "Buffy, hey, how are you? Been pretty quiet in here lately." 

"I didn't even ask about that yet," Buffy pointed out, studying Willy's behavior. He was blinking rapidly and shifting his feet. He was definitely hiding something, then. Maybe something to do with Angelus. "I was wondering, have you seen Angel lately?" 

"Angel?" Willy repeated. "Yeah, sure, he's been in here a few times the past couple of weeks." 

"Within the past day?" Buffy pressed. 

"Why ask me?" Willy snapped. "You're his girlfriend. You should know more than I do." 

"He was here, then," Buffy stated, sure from Willy's defensive reaction that he had information she could use. "What did he want?" 

"Nothing." 

Buffy reached out and grabbed Willy's collar. "I don't believe you." When Willy stubbornly remained silent, she shook him until his teeth rattled. "Dammit, I'm serious. I need to know. Do I have to beat you up first, or will you make it easy on yourself?" 

"All right, all right!" Willy blurted. "Look, he was here last night. Acting like the ruler of the planet. He had a drink and then he left." 

"Did he say where he was going?" 

"I don't know where he holed up," Willy insisted. "You can beat me up as bad as you want and you won't get any more out of me because I don't know." 

Slowly, Buffy let go of his shirt. She strongly suspected Willy was keeping a secret but she couldn't prove it. Besides, his decision about whether to speak came down to the issue of who he feared more: her or the demon. Angelus wouldn't hesitate to kill a human, while Buffy wouldn't take that step. And what were the odds that Angelus had given someone as lowly as Willy even the first clue about his hiding spot? Pretty slim. So, although a bit reluctant, Buffy retreated, still having no additional information about where to look. 

***** 

Whoever said there was no rest for the wicked was full of shit, Angelus thought as he woke from a good, long nap. He felt very well rested indeed, and better with the knowledge that he had drawn blood against Buffy. He ought to pay her another visit that evening, he decided. Just to keep her on her toes. Who knew? He might even run into one of her little pals as a bonus. Best of all, though they didn't know it yet, he was immune to their most likely form of retribution: If they tried to reensoul him, Madam Verde's protection spell would save him. 

He sat up and stretched, ready to go and feast on one of the three Initiative prisoners he had dragged to his lair last night following another satisfyingly bloody raid, when he sensed something very wrong. 

He smelled... smoke. Smoke and gasoline. And that wasn't all. Angelus stiffened as he caught wind of another familiar scent. Someone was outside, watching the fire and, unless he missed his guess, enjoying the hell out of the sight. 

Well, much as he wanted to, he couldn't do anything about that for the moment. Not during daylight, with the flames licking his way. It seemed like the perfect time for an emergency slither into one of the secret tunnels that led to the sewer system, and safety. 

***** 

Buffy doggedly continued her hunt, disappointed that it had so far been fruitless. She hadn't found a trace of Angelus, with dusk only a few hours away. He would be in his element once night fell, and who knew what additional trouble he might cause? 

On the subject of trouble, Buffy slowed down, then stopped. Something was wrong, and it had alerted her subconscious. A noise? A shadow? Slowly, Buffy turned, studying her surroundings. She had completed three-quarters of a circle when she realized what had attracted her attention: the acrid smell of smoke. Something was on fire. 

Buffy began to walk again, then broke into a trot. After another block she heard sirens, indicating that she was not the only one aware of the fire. The scent of smoke grew heavier as she turned onto a new road. It took a few seconds for Buffy to realize that she was on Crawford Street. Her pace changed to a run, and she rounded the next corner to see that the mansion on Crawford Street was engulfed in flames. 

***** 

Night had not yet fallen before Buffy reached home again. Everyone except Xander was grouped in the living room with research materials scattered around. 

"Any luck?" Willow asked eagerly. "Xander was out earlier too but he didn't find anything." 

Buffy looked around. "Where is he? I might as well fill you all in at once." 

"Over here." Xander emerged from upstairs, a towel slung around his shoulders and his hair damp. 

"What did you find, Buffy?" Giles asked. 

"No Angelus and no clues, until you count the fact that the mansion was lit on fire and in the process of burning to the ground." 

Startled exclamations rang out all over the room. 

"Totally serious here," Buffy confirmed. "It was arson. I heard the firefighters talking about it. They said the perimeter of the house was doused with gasoline and then set on fire in a very deliberate act so if anyone was inside, they'd be surrounded by a ring of flames." 

Willow furrowed her brow. "How do you know Angelus didn't somehow set the fire himself to throw us off his trail? I mean, it couldn't be a coincidence that his home burned right at this time. He might have thought we'd figure he was dead and would lower our guard." 

Xander spoke up. "That's not what happened." 

"How do you know?" Buffy demanded. 

"Well, it could be because he'd have kind of a hard time doing all those preparations during the daytime. Or it could be because he'd sooner burn any of us than his precious mansion. Or there's a third option. It also could be because I just happened to set the fire." The satisfied grin that spread across Xander's face provided a big clue as to which of these possibilities was true. 

"You set it? Why?" Anya snapped. 

"Why do you think? Because Angelus was inside." 

"How do you know?" Buffy repeated. 

"Because you said you didn't think so, and Angelus knows you so well he'd realize this, so he would think he'd be safe if he *did* use it as his hiding place," Xander smugly summarized. 

"You didn't hear him inside," Buffy began. "You didn't see him inside. You have no proof that he was there. Yet you went to all that trouble. Real bright move, Xander. We're even worse off than before, and I didn't think that was possible. Way to complicate the situation." 

With everyone, including Giles, glaring at him in disapproval, Xander finally seemed to realize that his actions might not have been the smartest and remained silent. 

"So what does this mean?" Willow asked. "Bye bye, Angelus?" 

Buffy shook her head. "I don't think he was inside. Or if he was, he escaped. I just can't imagine something like a fire doing in a demon as cunning as Angelus. He's still lurking out there somewhere." 

"What's our next step?" Anya asked. 

"You haven't found an Orb of Thesulah yet?" 

Tara spoke up. "Not for lack of trying. There might be one in San Diego if we're really lucky." 

"I'll go back out and try to find Angelus," Buffy decided. "It'll be dark soon and that improves the odds quite a bit. You guys stay inside and hope an Orb turns up soon, plus try to dig up any alternate plans of action." 

After a quick snack to help replenish her energy, Buffy went back to patrolling, making her usual rounds through the cemeteries as dusk fell. A few unlucky demons ran across her path and she summarily disposed of them before resuming her hunt. 

It wasn't until she reached Shady Rest Cemetery that she hit pay dirt. She wasn't alone; she could feel it. Unable to spot her prey, she crept across the cemetery, and then he struck. The force of the blow sent Buffy flying into a marble headstone. She lithely flipped over and landed on her feet, facing her attacker. Only it wasn't who she expected. Instead of looking at Angelus, she saw Spike, in full game face. Her next thought was, 'Angelus was telling the truth.' Then she didn't have much time for thinking, because Spike's fist slammed into her jaw and sent her reeling. He lunged and struck her in the face twice more, following up with a punch to the gut. Buffy leaped back out of range and steadied herself. 

"Come on, Slayer," Spike taunted, closing in again, "put up a bit of a fight. It's no fun if you don't." 

"You bastard," Buffy spat, "you were supposed to leave town and never come back. Remember our deal?" 

"The one we made 'round the time of Acathla? What can I say? I'm evil," Spike reminded her, punctuating each sentence with a blow. "Deals are made to be broken." 

Buffy matched each hit with one of her own, mind racing. Had Spike really been the one to attack her mom? "Angelus said you were here and I didn't believe him," she told Spike as she circled him, looking for an opening. "Did you also kill my mother, like he said?" 

"Yeah, I finished off your mum," Spike confirmed. 

"On orders from Angelus?" 

Spike growled. "I'm not his lackey. That was on my own initiative, because Angelus was acting like a poof. Too much talk, not enough action. Kind of like this fight." With those words, Spike went on the offensive again, driving Buffy backward with a flurry of blows. "Angelus has been toying with you since the second he came back to town. Didn't know that, didja?" 

Buffy retreated another pace at hearing this information. She'd been hoping she hadn't been duped quite so long. Then she readied herself to plunge back into the fight. She couldn't let Spike's taunts get to her. They were probably clever lies designed to throw her off her game and even if they happened to be true, she still needed to maintain her focus. 

Driven by fury and a haunting vision of her mother's dead body, Buffy launched a fierce attack. A spin kick snapped Spike's head back. He countered with a punch to her face, but Buffy swept his feet out from under him and caused him to scramble away to save himself. Buffy moved in again, aware that she was winning the fight, taking Spike off guard and forcing him to stay on the defensive. 

But then, instead of focusing on her, his eyes flickered to her side. 

In another second, Buffy understood why; Angelus loomed up on her left. "Sorry, Buff, but these odds don't seem fair to me." 

He and Spike attacked in tandem, driving her back. She was caught between the two, cornered and vulnerable. If she could take out one of them right away, she'd stand a chance. But Spike and Angelus weren't ordinary vampires. Even as this thought occurred to Buffy, they closed in on either side of her. She positioned herself to face Angelus, the greater threat, and Spike attacked her blind side. Buffy dodged and struck back, but Angelus leaped in and swiped her, sending her reeling. Spike pressed in again, blood dripping from his mouth. 

Buffy took a step away and found herself against the cold stone of a mausoleum with the vampires just inches from her exposed throat. She froze, hoping they would stop from attacking long enough for her to figure out some way of gaining the advantage. 

Seeing her trapped, Spike relaxed and addressed Angelus. "I take back half the nasty thoughts I had about you tonight. Good job. So, who gets first bite?" He licked his chops in anticipation. 

Angelus looked at Buffy. Then he eyed Spike. And then he did something more surprising than almost any of his other actions so far: He reached out and smashed Spike up against the mausoleum, next to Buffy. 

"Ow!" Spike yelped. "Watch it! I could have pierced my tongue with a fang." He fell silent, however, upon seeing the look on Angelus' face. 

Angelus leaned closer to him. "What did I tell you from the beginning? Oh, yeah, I think it went like this: The Slayer is mine." 

"We were in this together. You promised me some of her blood, at the least," Spike complained. 

"What can I say? I changed my mind." 

"You're siding with a human against me? Your Slayer obsession has gotten pretty damn ridiculous. You're supposed to kill them, not protect them. You're making a fool of yourself hanging 'round this two-bite town, mooning over the Slayer. Look at yourself. You're not a vampire--you're a bigger lapdog than Angel ever was." 

Angelus' eyes flashed golden and he appeared to be on the verge of separating Spike's head from his shoulders. Spike, obviously realizing that he might have committed a serious strategic error by opening his mouth, immediately stopped talking. 

Buffy, meanwhile, saw a real opportunity to take out her mom's murderer. She yanked a stake from her waistband and prepared to ram it through Spike's heart, but Angelus instantly knocked it out of her hand. She was tempted to try to retrieve the stake, but held back when Angelus turned back to his new prisoner. 

"Spike, for your own health, I strongly suggest that you listen very carefully to what I have to say and then follow my instructions to the letter. I want you to get into your car and drive until dawn. Any direction will do--I'm not picky. Just put some real estate between yourself and Sunnydale. Now, in my opinion, this is a very generous offer and it's in your best interests to take me up on it. Otherwise, I suppose I'll have to let Buffy polish you off. And considering your attitude, I just might help her myself. So like I said, I think you'd be better off leaving now. What do *you* think?" He stepped back, allowing Spike room to escape if he chose to. 

Buffy blocked the gap. "Wait a minute. That stake--" she indicated the one on the ground "--has Spike's name on it. And *he* attacked *me*." 

"I'm sure he's sorry now," Angelus offered. He held Buffy back while giving Spike an encouraging shove. "Hurry up if you're going." 

Not sticking around to press his luck, Spike darted away, leaving a frustrated Buffy behind. The roar of a car engine coming to life sounded and then tires peeled away. 

Buffy shook off Angelus' grip and turned on him. "What the hell was that all about? First you help Spike, then you help me, and then you let him go. From what he told me, he betrayed you, and I definitely just heard him insult you. He compared you to Angel, and isn't that the worst thing anyone could say to you? That alone should make you two enemies, right?" 

Angelus shook his head. "Buffy, you just don't get it. Spike is insubordinate, mouthy, and annoying, yes, but at the root of it all he's still family." 

"Yeah, well, speaking of family, he killed my mother." 

Angelus smiled. "True. Reason enough for letting him survive." 

Somehow, Buffy resisted the urge to smack the smirk off of his face. "What about Riley, and Maggie Walsh? I didn't forget about them, you know." 

"Ah, yes, Riley," Angelus mused. "Well, I was willing to overlook the fact that he dated you, and helped put the chip in my head, and underestimated me... wait. Actually, no, I wasn't, as he lived just long enough to thoroughly regret. But you'll be happy to know, Riley was thinking of you at the very end. His dying word was your name. 

"You know, you really have to start picking better allies. Aside from the disasters of Finn and Walsh, for instance, there's your idiot friend Xander. I happen to know that he committed arson not so long ago. An anonymous tip-off to the police isn't really my style, but hey, if it works.... You ought to be aware, a few skeletons are gonna be found in the wreckage of the mansion and those'll count against Xander too. I'd say he's looking at doing at least 20 years." 

Buffy bit her lip. She couldn't let Xander go to prison. On the other hand, how could she stop Angelus? 'Stake him now,' a persistent little voice told her. 

Angelus seemed to be reading her mind. "Oh, by the way, before you decide you just have to dust me to save your little buddy, you ought to know that an old friend of mine has instructions to alert the police on my behalf if he doesn't hear otherwise from me at least once a week. Either way, Xander loses. You think the police won't be able to find witnesses once they have a suspect? People who saw Xander in the wrong place at the wrong time, like buying gasoline or walking down Crawford Street or fleeing the scene? Believe me, they will. And then his life will be as good as over, and not in the fun way." 

"You don't want to hurt Xander," Buffy pointed out. "You really want to hurt me. Leave him out of it." 

"Hurting Xander hurts you," Angelus responded. "Works for me. Now, I think it's pretty clear who's running this town. I'll give you some time to think through matters and revise your attitude. Meet me here tomorrow night an hour after dusk to discuss how things will be from now on." 

***** 

Having lost any leverage against Angelus and not knowing where Spike had gone, Buffy dragged herself home to find Xander, Giles, Tara, Anya, and Willow waiting for the latest information. 

"The news isn't good," she told them without preamble. "Angelus is still around, but even before I saw him, I ran into Spike. Yeah, Spike. We fought and he admitted to killing my mom." Buffy paused for a moment to gather herself. "So anyway, we were fighting and Angelus showed up and broke it up, and then he let Spike escape." 

"And then you staked Angelus, right?" Xander pressed. 

"No," Buffy replied flatly. "I didn't." 

"You let him go, again?" Xander yelled. 

"It was just a little more complicated than that," Buffy replied, reining in her temper with an effort. 

"How complicated could it have been?" Xander ranted. "Stake, vampire heart, vamp dust. Sounds pretty easy to me." 

"Wait a minute, Xander. You haven't heard the kicker yet. Angelus knows you set the fire. If I do dust him, you get turned in to the cops not only for committing arson, but also for killing several people who supposedly were inside the mansion at the time. According to Angelus, if anything happens to him, a friend of his will be only too happy to pass on the information." 

"Angelus actually *has* a friend?" Xander muttered, somewhat subdued. 

Giles frowned. "Obviously any bodies that might be found in that house are those of people whom he had already killed or soon planned to, but it would make Xander look bad." 

"Exactly," Anya agreed. "What are we supposed to say? He didn't kill anyone--a vampire did?" 

"We'll think of some way around that problem," Willow assured everyone. "We just need a little time." 

"We need a miracle, or else a demon-expelling spell," Xander decided. "Hey, that sounds funny, doesn't it? 'Expelling spell.' Right, well, shutting up now." 

"We actually need an Orb of Thesulah," Anya stated. "We have to try harder to find one. Offer any amount of money--small children--promises of hidden treasure." 

Since everyone agreed with what Anya said--except for the part about the children and the treasure--they did as she advised. Buffy had barely slept at all in the past 48 hours and the others weren't much better off, but they persisted throughout the day and finally, Tara reported success: An Orb in San Diego could be rush-delivered. By the time night fell, however, it hadn't arrived. 

Buffy checked her watch and then decided, "I'm going to the meeting with Angelus to hear what he has to say. If I don't go, he'll just come looking for me and then you guys will be caught in the crossfire and it'll be a huge mess. The second the Orb arrives, even if I'm still out, perform the curse." Ignoring any protests, she left the house one more time. 

***** 

Spike leaned back in his seat and looked around the lounge where he had ended up. He was in a demon hangout called Caritas, and the Bloody Marys were excellent. He hadn't followed Angelus' warning and driven away from Sunnydale until dawn. In fact, he'd only made it as far as Los Angeles before stopping. Angelus would get over his snit and need more support soon enough, and maybe then Spike would deign to give it to him. After, of course, Angelus apologized and grovelled suitably. He wouldn't have gotten half as far as he had without all of Spike's hard work. Yeah, Angelus would still be chipped and helpless, at the Slayer's mercy, drinking swill out of plastic bags and fuming over his misfortune. Secure in his sense of self-righteousness, Spike took a hearty swig of his drink. 

A Ridnour demon sidled onto the chair next to his and nodded a greeting with both of its heads, then instantly launched into speech with its primary mouth. "You decide what you're gonna sing? I'm trying to choose between 'All You Need Is Love' and 'Unchained Melody.'" 

"And why would I want to sing?" 

"See that green demon with the horns, over at the bar? That's the Host," the Ridnour said in a tone of deepest awe. "When you sing karaoke, he reads your aura and then he tells you things. Sometimes really big things." 

"Karaoke?" Spike considered. Dru's premonitions had come in handy more than once, so he certainly wasn't prejudiced against the idea of aura-reading. Plus, he could stand to hear some bad news. Oh, what the hell? At the next break in the lineup, he jumped onto the stage without waiting to be introduced, grabbed the microphone, and launched into "Wild Thing." 

It was kind of fun to hold the attention of the room in a way no other performer that night had. When Spike finished, the audience burst into enthusiastic applause. Spike took a bow before he surrendered the stage and sauntered over to the Host, who was nodding and smiling. "That good, was I? You must not hear a lot of talent in here, what with this sort of clientele." As an example, Spike indicated a pudgy, drooling Thross demon in the corner. 

"You were certainly better than average. If you ever want to change careers, look me up." 

Spike took the seat beside the Host and got straight to the point. "So what did you see when you read me?" 

The green demon eyed him. "Well, you're living--or should I say, unliving--in someone's shadow. If you ever want to get out from under it, the time is ripe. Now, if you'll excuse me...." He got up and picked his way toward the stage. 

Alone, Spike considered the Host's words. Angelus. The Host had been talking about Angelus, and Spike had to admit it--he was right. Spike still desperately craved Angelus' approval. His grandsire was so formidable, so vicious and unprincipled. Despite their differences, he was Spike's role model. He wondered if Angelus was proud of him; if he'd ever quite managed to live down to expectations. Judging from recent experiences, he didn't think so. 

Still, he could salvage the situation. For instance, he currently happened to be in a city where he could do some real damage. It seemed like a good start. Impulsively, Spike stood up and weaved around chairs and tables toward the door. 

Behind him, he heard the Host's voice echoing around the room. "Here's our next performer. He's a little down on his luck right now so let's hope his fortunes turn around after tonight. I give you Wesley Wynd--" 

And then Spike was out on the street, seeking his prey. 

***** 

Angelus strolled through the dark roads of Sunnydale, mulling over the possible outcomes of tonight's meeting with Buffy. He was pushing her hard, and sooner or later, he knew she would decide she had no choice but to stake him. So far she'd been holding back from an all-out attempt, but her outlook could change at any moment. In that case, it might be time for him to make a bold move before Buffy could do so. 

While thinking, Angelus passed through the Initiative stomping grounds, only to find that rather than stand and fight, the cowards had packed up and run. Therefore, instead of being able to pick off another Initiative member or three, he settled for locating and draining a perky blonde teenager he strongly suspected had been a Sunnydale High student. Bonus points: When Buffy heard of the death, she would be bound to blame herself for failing to save not just a human, but a classmate. Of course, she didn't wallow in guilt as much as Angel did--*no one* was that bad--but any extra reaction would be gravy. 

With the edge taken off his hunger, he again thought about his upcoming meeting. He had to admit (if only to himself), Spike had had a point. Why *was* he squandering his time in Sunnydale? Sure, it had the Hellmouth, but the appeal of that thing was greatly overrated. So again, what was he, Angelus, the Scourge of Europe, thinking of, becoming mired in the petty problems of a no-name town? Other demons would begin to talk, and he couldn't tear the heads off of *all* of them. Yes, Angelus decided, he needed to end his sojourn in Sunnydale quickly and spectacularly, if only to prove that he *could*. 

A demented plan began to form in the back of his mind. It would torment all of Buffy's friends, and they would never see it coming. It would also torment Buffy herself, assuming the old stories about a turned Slayer retaining her soul were really true. And afterwards he could leave for bloodier pastures, pride intact. Satisfied, he turned his steps toward Shady Rest Cemetery. 

Buffy was already at the meeting place. Angelus held back and carefully inspected the surroundings to determine that she had come alone. If she was indeed planning a trap, she seemed to have kept her friends out of the execution. It was down to the two of them--exactly as he wanted it. 

"Buff," he greeted casually as he stepped forward, enjoying her wince at the sound of the abbreviated name. "Glad you could make it. Then again, you never could resist me." 

"You mean Angel," Buffy shot back, obviously trying to put up a brave front. "I want him back. He belongs here. You don't." 

"I guess this means you don't want to go just one more round, for old time's sake? No? All right, your loss. But you know, we have a major difference of opinion here about Angel. He clearly doesn't deserve to be around. Anyone careless and stupid enough to get himself bitten in the first place has lost all rights to existence. He was asking for it, and doing something like, say, forcing that soul back on me would be a violation, plain and simple. You want your precious Angel around so much, go find him another body to live in. This one's taken." He studied Buffy more closely, noting the presence of a weapon. "Why did you even bother to bring a stake? We both know you aren't going to use it. You don't dare, because if you do it, then it's goodbye forever to your boyfriend." He paused to savor the sight of the fresh pain on Buffy's face. Every additional cruelty made him feel better, and Buffy worse. All was wrong in the world. "See, that's your fatal flaw--love. If you didn't let that pesky emotion get in your way, you'd enjoy yourself so much more. Look at me." 

"I was willing to kill you once before," Buffy reminded him. "I beat you and you would have been dusted for sure if Angel hadn't gotten his soul back at the exact right moment." 

"That was a fluke," Angelus scoffed as he began to bait his trap with words. "You had help. I was weakened before that fight even started. I'm smarter than you, and I'm stronger than you, and you know it. All that said, though, I'm not completely unreasonable. I understand you're in a tough position, feeling like you have a duty to protect hordes of stupid humans even though they don't even know what you're doing. Not to mention your little band of helpers who I could easily pick off if I wanted to bother. Now, as you know, a demon of my stature has a certain reputation to maintain. Considering all of these factors, I'm willing to propose a deal that will be beneficial to both of us. If you cooperate, I'll leave Sunnydale tonight without attacking any of your friends." 

"Why would you do that?" Buffy's tone was, rightfully, dripping with suspicion, but underneath Angelus heard a bit of hope and definite curiosity. 

"Come a little closer," he ordered. "I have to show you what I mean." 

Buffy hesitated, then slowly stepped forward. Even that little bit of trust was a huge mistake. Angelus instantly morphed, lunged, and sank his fangs into the tender flesh of her throat in a powerful, grasping bite. Buffy's instinctive move backwards merely served to deepen the wounds, making her blood flow more freely and Angelus drink more eagerly. He had fed from Buffy before, but this time was different. This time, he didn't intend to stop. 

Buffy quivered in his arms like a frightened bird, her life draining away in rich mouthfuls. He had succeeded. Another handful of swallows and Buffy would have lost forever. But then, beneath the heat of her blood, Angelus felt a menacing cold encroaching: an iciness spreading both up and down his spine and shooting out to envelope the rest of his body as well. 

Before he could react, it was numbing his brain, clouding his eyes, paralyzing his legs. He lost his hold on Buffy's neck and fell to his knees, trying to maintain his ground, but his grip was weakening. 

No. It wasn't fair. The body was his! 

But he felt himself losing position despite his best efforts. With his failing vision he looked up one last time, into Buffy's shocked eyes. Then the demon Angelus knew no more. 

***** 

Free of Angelus' death grip, Buffy staggered and clutched a hand to her bloody throat. Angelus had taken a lot of blood, though fortunately not enough to disable her. A mental voice had been yelling at her to fight him, to escape, but somehow her limbs hadn't gotten the message. She would have been dead if Angelus hadn't stopped drinking. Why had he even chosen this night to attack? Surely he hadn't made her suffer to his satisfaction yet. It wasn't in his nature to end matters so quickly but then, he must have had some twisted reason she didn't know about. 

Every muscle screaming with tension, Buffy stared at the body she hoped was again controlled by Angel. The Orb must have finally arrived back at the house. But if Willow had performed the curse, why wasn't Angel awake, looking at her with his familiar, sorrow-filled eyes? Things weren't playing out like they had last time he'd been cursed. On the other hand, the spell had hit him hard, and finally overwhelmed him. He was lying sprawled on the ground, unmoving. Maybe the curse's effects differed depending on various factors. It wasn't like she was an expert on the situation. Giles, Willow, and Tara would probably know more. 

When Angel had remained still for another five minutes, Buffy decided that chances were good the situation would continue indefinitely. Considering that they weren't exactly in the safest of places and the scent of blood clinging to both of them was bound to eventually attract vampires, she chose to lug Angel home and consult with the others. 

***** 

He was lying flat on his back on a hard surface, and he heard voices nearby. They were familiar, but at first he couldn't quite identify them. 

"What's wrong? Why isn't he moving?" said the first voice. 

"Maybe he's dead." 

"One, he's already dead. Two, if he isn't dust then he's still undead. We just have to be patient." 

A telephone rang and a single pair of footsteps moved away, the owner apparently intending to answer the call. The other people continued to bicker, and slowly, the events from earlier filtered through Angelus' mind. He'd met with Buffy in the graveyard; he'd bitten her; he'd felt that strange, horrible sensation and lost his grip. That was the last he remembered until waking up just now. He didn't even know how much time had elapsed in between. What had happened? Remaining perfectly still, he resumed eavesdropping. 

"Was it like this the other time?" This time he was able to recognize Willow's voice. 

Buffy replied. "No, the last time his soul was restored, it didn't happen this way. It was very quick and he didn't lose consciousness." 

Those words told Angelus what he needed to know. Buffy and her pack of friends had been up to good again, attempting to recurse him, but the protection spell cast by that not-so-batty old witch had saved him. It hadn't worked perfectly--for instance, he really hadn't expected or wanted to be knocked unconscious while being protected--but overall it had done its job. He was still himself, evil to the core; the bastard soul hadn't been able to worm its way back into control. 

Of course, not being privy to this vital information, Buffy and company were pretty confused about why Angel hadn't popped back up already, and Angelus wasn't about to fill them in that it just wasn't going to happen. At least, not yet, he wasn't. Appreciating and taking full advantage of the fact that he didn't have to breathe, he continued to lie almost motionless. He did, though, ease open one eyelid the merest fraction to identify his location as being the back room of the Magic Box. No great surprise there. He quickly stopped peeking and went back to listening to the conversation. 

"What about the next time he loses his soul?" Xander was complaining. "Angel or Angelus, he's not safe either way." 

"We'll think of something," Buffy replied. "Don't we always?" 

"But--" 

"Xander, I don't want to hear this. Just stop." 

Xander might well have pressed the matter except that Giles' voice cut in. "Everyone, this is very important. That was Wesley on the telephone just now. First of all, he's fine. However, the reason he was calling is that there is an emergency situation in Los Angeles. A pack of vampires is slaughtering its way through the city, causing tremendous destruction and death. The most significant element is that their leader is described as having platinum-blond hair and wearing a duster." 

"And who do we all know and hate who has platinum-blond hair?" Xander prompted. 

"Spike," most of the others chorused. 

"Last night when Angelus told Spike to leave town," Buffy recalled, "he didn't order a pit stop in Los Angeles to attack the population, so I'm guessing Spike got ambitious. This could be my only real chance to catch him. If I don't get him now, he could run off to Europe or Asia and I'd never find him." 

"After what he did to your mom, you need to take him out," Willow agreed. 

Angelus heard Buffy turn toward him as she continued. "Only this is a horrible time to leave Sunnydale. I don't want to desert Angel even for a little while. On the other hand, I can't just let Spike get away with killing Mom." 

"Can't you go to Los Angeles tonight, track down Spike, and come back here before dawn?" Anya suggested. "The rest of us can stay with Angel." 

"Buffy needs transportation," Giles interjected. "She'll also need some backup. I think it's best if I go with her." 

Still Buffy hesitated. Finally she decided, "All right, I guess that's the best compromise. If Angel wakes up before we get back, explain what happened to him." 

"We will," Tara promised. 

Buffy moved away, but then Angelus heard her approaching him again. "Wait. I can't just leave him like this. When he wakes up and remembers what happened he's going to feel terrible. Maybe even suicidal. And if he wants to leave here, no offense, you guys, but you won't be able to stop him. I should restrain him before I go." She crossed the room and picked up an item that Angelus guessed must be a pair of handcuffs, from the way the metal clinked. 

She came back toward him. Maintaining his cover, he forced his right arm to remain limp as Buffy picked it up and fastened a handcuff around his wrist. She then clipped the other cuff into a ring set into the wall. 

"That's better," she decided. "It should help." 

She quickly threw together some supplies and then she and Giles said brief goodbyes and left. Anya, Tara, Xander, and Willow all retreated to the main area of the Magic Box. Soon Angelus heard soft, even breathing that indicated sleep. He grinned; he'd heard the exhaustion in the humans' voices before and knew it was thanks to him. They'd been so busy trying (and failing) to defeat him that they obviously hadn't spared much time for rest. 

At any rate, their lack of attention gave him the opportunity he needed to break free of his restraints. Buffy had been in a hurry and had apparently hoped "Angel" wouldn't try too hard to get loose, since the restraints were minimal. After a few moments of hard effort, Angelus was able to bend the metal and tug his imprisoned wrist free. He sat up, still feeling a bit weak, likely from the aftereffects of the failed curse and the spell colliding, but definitely able to wipe out four mere humans. 

At least, that was his revised plan until he heard footsteps in the front room. Someone out there was awake and heading his way. Curious, he quickly lay back down and closed his eyes, pretending to still be unconscious. 

The door to the back room opened and then quietly shut, with the person now inside with him. Angelus cracked open one eye; his companion was Xander, and he was holding a stake. He took one step toward Angelus, then another and another, until he was only a pace away. 

Angelus felt the movement of air as Xander leaned closer and in one swift flash had rolled to the side, gained his feet, and snatched Xander around the throat. The stake fell harmlessly to the floor; Xander helplessly kicked out and opened his mouth, trying to gather breath. 

"Make one sound and I'll kill all your friends in the other room," Angelus promised. 

Xander's mouth flapped shut. 

Angelus glanced at the stake. "So, you got the brilliant idea to permanently fix things by sneaking inside to stake Angel in his sleep? Really brave. Not to mention insanely stupid. Then again, it's exactly what I would have expected of a worthless little nonentity like you. 

"So the question becomes, what to do with you? Sure, I could let you go. I bet you'd love that. Or I could drag you off to a lair and torture you for about a year or two, which has its appeal. But you see, I'm leaving Sunnydale behind tonight and not one trace of it is coming with me. So as much fun as it could be to bring you along for the ride, I'm afraid that's too much to ask." 

With no further warning, he snapped Xander's neck with a resounding CRACK! The body slumped, lifeless, against him. Angelus sighed in rapture. It had been so satisfying to finally, *finally*, finish off Xander. Plus, he'd thought of a new plot inspired by the moron's sheer idiocy. 

He held still, listening for a moment, until the slow, steady breathing from the other room assured him that Willow, Anya, and Tara had slept right through their friend's death. Perfect. 

He then shoved the broken body aside, unwilling to demean himself by drinking from it. It was enough to know the irritating boy was dead at his hand, and had been terrified out of his mind for the last seconds of his extraordinarily pitiful life. Instead, Angelus quietly set to work removing the broken handcuffs from the wall, finding and clamping an undamaged pair in their place, and gathering as much dust as he could. When he had finished his arrangements, he stood back and surveyed the results. Would the scenario fool everyone? Yes, he thought, it was quite convincing. 

Sadly, he would have to leave the three girls in the other room unmolested--slaughtering them would be far too obvious a move--but that sacrifice was worth the reward. He grabbed the ruined handcuffs and Xander's carcass and toted them outside through the back door to dispose of elsewhere. He only regretted that he couldn't be around to witness Buffy's devastated reaction when she came upon the scene he'd set up. It wasn't the denouement he had planned, but it made a pretty good substitute. 

Angelus drove away from Sunnydale without a backward glance. His work there was done. 

***** 

Buffy and Giles spent an exhausting night hunting for Spike, following lead after lead only to learn, near daybreak, that somewhere along the way they'd taken at least one false turn. Spike had wreaked havoc and left Los Angeles reeling in his wake, with packs of power-hungry vampires openly hunting. Where he'd gone next was anyone's guess. 

Disappointed and tired to the bone, Buffy and Giles returned to Sunnydale and went right to the Magic Box. Much as both of them would have loved to get some sleep, they had to deal with Angel first. 

At least, that was what Buffy thought until she stepped inside the building and was met by a babble of upset voices. 

Willow, in tears, cried, "Buffy, we're so sorry. We didn't know until it was too late." 

Tara continued, "We were all so tired after you left. We fell asleep and he must have done it then." 

Anya contributed, "I definitely would have stopped him if I'd known what he was planning." 

"Wait," Buffy cut through the clamor. "What happened? What are you talking about? Where's Xander? Is Angel awake?" 

"You'd better come look," Willow said quietly. She led Buffy into the back room. 

In the place where Angel should have lain, Buffy saw a dangling handcuff, a stake, and a pile of dust. A pile the size a dusted vampire usually left. 

Willow broke the silence. "Xander's gone. He must have run away. After he did it." 

If anyone spoke right after that, Buffy didn't hear the words. She remained staring at the dust, almost unable to believe the enormity of Xander's betrayal. All she knew was that her life would never be the same. 

***** 

Three months later... 

One moment, a fresh young shop clerk was hurrying along a dark Sunnydale street, eager to return home to her infant daughter. The next moment, she was gone. Only the most watchful eye would have seen what became of her as she passed the mouth of an alley. An arm had snaked out and yanked the luckless pedestrian into the shadows, never to emerge alive. Minutes later, the culprit stepped out of the darkness and casually proceeded down the street, the edge taken off of his hunger. 

Angelus was back in Sunnydale with his head held high, supplies ready and a new plan in mind. When he'd left he'd thought he didn't need Buffy around, that he could have just as much fun--more, even--killing and pillaging away from her. Instead he'd found out that he was, for one of the few times in his illustrious career, wrong. He had to admit it; without Buffy around, his life wasn't half as interesting. Sure, he'd still maimed and tormented and stalked and slaughtered other humans, but it just hadn't been the same. He'd done it all: eaten schoolchildren, tormented kittens, even skinned babies, and through weeks of mayhem he hadn't once felt the old rush. 

But when he pictured Buffy's reaction to the vicious deeds, then came that familiar thrilling sensation of pleasure. 

Oh, yeah. 

So that was why he'd returned to Sunnydale. To rectify his mistake and finish what he'd started. 

He began with a little judicious stalking and spying to get the new lay of the land. It turned out that Buffy was still living in her old house, all alone, and Angelus briefly wondered why she had been allowed to, considering that she was underage. Then again, this was Sunnydale, and far more serious offenses regularly went unremarked. 

Despite the fact that it was a good hour and more after dusk, Buffy was still indoors. Angelus impatiently waited across the street to see if she would ever emerge from her house. It took another half hour before she did, and then she didn't appear to register his presence and actually didn't seem interested in any aspect of her surroundings. She had grown thinner and paler since the last time he had seen her, and she was heading out without so much as a single stake on her person. She walked slowly but steadily toward Sunnydale Cemetery, Angelus tracking her. Not once did she act like she was hunting. Instead she made a beeline for the edge of the graveyard, like this direct path was one she had traveled many times before. She stopped there, before a small headstone inscribed simply "Angel," settled down on the grass, and began to speak in a choked voice. "It still doesn't feel real. None of it does. Angelus coming back, Riley and my mom being dead, Xander staking you and running away, Spike escaping. How could it have happened like this?" 

She seemed to have lost her spirit, Angelus thought as he crept nearer. Well, when she saw him again she was bound to perk up a bit. After all, they had quite a history together. Before Buffy's speech could grow any more pathetic, Angelus emerged from the shadows to stand in front of her. 

She definitely saw him. Her head went up and her eyes focused on him, but they held a strange glazed look and her reaction wasn't exactly what he had expected. "Angel. We held a service for you. It was nice. I think you would have liked it. Willow, Tara, Anya, Wesley, and Giles were all there." 

Did Buffy regularly imagine the presence of a ghost-Angel? Angelus thought with disgust. He shook his head. "You're wrong yet again, Buff. How many times do I have to tell you that Angel is gone, g-o-n-e, never coming back? You do realize now that you buried plain old regular dust in that grave instead of the sacred remains of Angel, don't you?" 

For a moment Buffy continued to look blank, but then a glimmer of comprehension dawned on her face. Angelus didn't let it get much farther. He swiftly pounced and tackled her, feeling how weakened she had become as she failed to put up much of a struggle when he pinned her to the ground. He could see in her eyes that she wanted to fight harder but she simply wasn't capable of it. She would be again, though; he'd see to that. 

He eased off of her slightly and reached into his pocket for the rag and chloroform he'd come prepared to use. No sense in knocking Buffy over the head and causing still more trauma, was there? She needed to keep some of her wits about her or she wouldn't be any fun. 

"Hold still," he advised. "I don't want to hurt you any more than I have to." 

"Since when?" Buffy demanded, fruitlessly writhing underneath him. "You've always wanted to cause me pain. That's why you're here!" 

"Not entirely. I came back this time because I missed you," Angelus informed her. "You know, I was thinking, we could go look up Spike first. Last I heard, he was over in London. You'd like to see him again, wouldn't you? Sure you would. Prussia and Spain would be good pit stops too. We should probably skip Romania, though. We're going to have to have a long discussion about travel plans but I see that now isn't the right moment. Well, we'll have plenty of time for that some other day." 

A healthy amount of chloroform later, and he was cruising out of Sunnydale with Buffy out cold on the passenger seat beside him. They were going to have some bad times together, all right. 

It just went to prove, in the end evil really did pay off. 

**END** 


End file.
